


the sick habit (is you and me)

by BlueForTheVirus



Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, abby haters be gone, and continues on after, it's been months and I'm still thinking about this game, major spoilers for the last of us part 2, takes place during the end of the game, who isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueForTheVirus/pseuds/BlueForTheVirus
Summary: *SPOILERS*This wasn’t how Ellie expected find Abby – hands bound, hair chopped short, clothes hanging from her starved frame. Ellie had dreamed of this moment. She had nearly died for it, countless times. Her revenge was before her, and yet she never wanted it less.
Relationships: Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Jesse (The Last of Us), Maria/Tommy (The Last of Us)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 252





	1. they took your resonance (and left me with rust)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy TLOU Day! I've been working on this story since I finished my second playthrough and somehow managed to complete it in time for today. As I've said before, posting this first chapter means the story is complete. It still needs editing, so chapters will be added every other day or so to give me time to make this story as good as I can make it. But you can rest assured that I won't leave you hanging with an unfinished work. Hope you guys love it. 
> 
> Ellie is so damn special to me. I've really tried my best to make this story mirror the game with its attention to detail, emotional flashbacks, and all the heartbreaking trauma you can stand. Chapter titles are inspired by songs and other things in the game and outside of it, or just pulled from wherever the rest of my words come from.
> 
> I'm still sad about it all. :'( Please be kind.

The sandy beach was cluttered with posts, the bottom foot of wood fouled by the tide that was out. When it came back in, salty water would cover the barnacles, algae, and rot. It would wash away the blood and refuse of the prisoners strung up and left to die. This wasn’t how Ellie expected find Abby – hands bound, hair chopped short, clothes hanging from her starved frame.

Ellie had dreamed of this moment. She had nearly died for it, countless times. Her revenge was before her, and yet she never wanted it less. Snarling, Ellie took a few more steps forward. She listed toward her injured side and stopped in front of a broken woman. This wasn’t the revenge she wanted at all.

“Help me,” Abby begged. “Please.”

_Rich_ , Ellie thought. _Too rich._ Where was Abby’s mercy when Ellie asked for it? Where was a single shred of decency when Ellie’s voice was breaking as she watched the pool of blood around Joel grow. It grew and grew before there was a loud _crack_ when Joel’s skull caved like a fracturing dam. Ellie closed her eyes against the memory of spurting blood. Unconsciously, her hand went for her back pocket, grabbing her switchblade.

“It’s you.”

Opening her eyes again, Ellie looked up. She expected defiance from Abby; she expected anger. Abby had let Ellie and the others live, yet here Ellie was again – throwing their truce away. Ellie wanted a fight. As easy as it would be to kill Abby now, Ellie needed one. She walked around the post to let Abby loose, wincing from the tearing pain that ripped at her side as she lifted her arms to cut the rope.

_Not now,_ she thought, willing her mind to numb her discomfort. _Not now._ She owed it to Joel to get through this fight.

Abby fell onto the beach, and as Ellie approached, she watched the blonde crawl back a few steps. There was still no fury from Abby, and yet, no surrender. Ellie was about to scream at Abby to get up and fight, but the words never made it past her throat. Abby staggered to her feet, giving Ellie a wide birth as she walked to another prisoner.

Ellie turned, silently observing as Abby untied the knot holding a boy to the pole. He was taller than Ellie remembered but there was no mistaking the kid from the theater - the one with the bow who shot Dina, yet convinced Abby to walk away.

“Lev,” Abby called out, voice graveled and weak. She was too slow to catch the boy, and he crumpled into the sand.

This… complicated things.

Ellie tightened her fingers around the worn handle of her blade. _Kill her,_ she told herself. _Just do it and get it over with._

Abby fumbled with the rope around Lev’s wrists. “I got you,” she whispered.

_Do it._

As Abby scooped the boy into her arms, Ellie stood firm – between them and the water. Abby was saying something about boats, but Ellie’s eardrums were pounding. This wasn’t what she wanted. She could lunge, drive her knife into Abby’s neck while she cradled Lev, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Ellie could give Joel’s murderer a new hole in her windpipe, could listen to Abby’s last, gargling breaths as her blood stained the beach; but instead, she only stood there – lightly swaying.

It wasn’t a fair fight. Abby wouldn’t drop the boy, and suddenly Ellie felt like she was looking back on her past. How many times had Joel protected like her this? Lips curling, hand shaking, Ellie tried to raise the switchblade. _End it,_ she thought. _Kill Abby… Kill the memories…_

Ellie took one more, unsteady step forward, and the knife fell from her hand. It pierced the sand, handle straight up. Her knees landed next to it as the dizzying black crept into her vision. The last thing she saw was Abby’s bare feet making impressions in the sand as she walked away.

* * *

“You’re leaving her?” Lev asked. He sat up in the boat and wiped dried blood from his chapped lips.

After untying the rowboat, Abby collected the rope – circling it in her hands, over and over. “She’s not our problem.”

“She saved us.”

Huffing at the boy, Abby set the rope inside the boat and started pushing it out to sea. “She didn’t come here to save us.”

Lev reached out, grasping the side of the boat as it began to rock. The wind made for angry, white-capped waves that beat against the aluminum dinghy. When the water was up to Abby’s stomach, she climbed onboard.

“We should go back for her,” Lev argued. “What if the tide comes in and she’s still unconscious?”

Abby shook her head as she lowered the propeller part of the motor into the sea. “We’re so close, Lev. Catalina island is just that way,” she said, pointing over her shoulder. “We can be there before tomorrow. If it’s really going to bother you that much, we’ll tell the Fireflies. Maybe they’ll send someone to help her. I really don’t give a fuck. I just wanna be done with her.”

Lev looked out over the water. “She doesn’t want to be done with you,” he whispered.

Abby grit her teeth and yanked on the pull start of the engine. She yanked and yanked, until the propellers diced salty water. It was time to leave Ellie and that cursed Rattler den behind.

* * *

**Rattlers have gotten too bold. We’re packing up and moving. If you need to find us, LOOK FOR THE LIGHT.**

Abby dropped the note, eyes straight ahead as the paper glided to the floor. Lev walked to it and picked it up.

“What?” he asked as he read. “They left?”

It wasn’t like the contents of the letter came as a shock to Abby. They had spent all morning inside the domed building in Avalon, waiting. There was no patrol that came to find them. There were no footsteps in the dust on the marble floors except for the ones they made.

In her anxiety and boredom, Abby shuffled around the old casino until she found the note. It was nailed to a wall in the ballroom, and when she found it – she half-wished Ellie had killed her. She had walked halfway across the country with Lev and for what? To find what they were looking for in Santa Barbra, only to be enslaved and tortured for months… This wasn’t what she wanted.

“Where did they go?” Lev wondered.

Abby ignored the boy. She didn’t have any answers for him. Moments later though, he had one of his own.

“Abby, look.”

Arm stretched upward, Lev gestured at the hole at the top of the crumbling dome. Abby followed the instruction, squinting as she gazed into the sunlight. She didn’t know what she was supposed to see. There was nothing in the blazing white light, but that didn’t stop Lev from picking up a chunk of the ceiling. He sent the grey brick flying and scoffed when it came back down. As it shattered on the floor, Abby looked at him.

“What are you doing?”

Lev picked up another lump of cement and threw it. Abby’s eyes followed. As the brick arced, the sunlight dimmed from a passing cloud. A pair of boots were hanging by its laces from exposed rebar.

“I doubt that’s what they meant,” she chided him.

Folding her arms over her chest, determined not to give into this new shred of hope, Abby stayed idle. It took several more rocks to knock the shoes down, and Abby bit her bottom lip as Lev stuck his hand inside one.

“There’s something in here!”

Dropping her arms, Abby walked to Lev. He pulled out a plastic baggy. There was paper inside, folded and unreadable as it sit in the clouded plastic, but Abby recognized the symmetrical line work on the page. It was a topographic map. It was hope.

Lev was quick to grab the map and unfold it. He flipped it over to the correct side, reading the circled area aloud. “Kansas City. They’re in Kansas City, Abby!”

“Fuck. That’s in the middle of the fucking country.”

Leaning over Lev’s shoulder, she pressed her finger to the edge of California and began to trace. She dragged her fingertip left, crossing state lines, mountains, and desert before settling on the line between Kansas and Missouri.

Abby sighed. “We’re not ready for a trip like that.”

“But we can be. We search the island for weapons and supplies, and then we’ll follow the Fireflies.”

Abby mussed up Lev’s short hair. “You’re a smart kid, you know that? You’re the brains, and I’m the brawn.”

“What’s a brawn?”

Abby made a face. “It means- never mind, I take it back.”

Lev only shrugged, folding the map as he walked away.

* * *

The Fireflies had picked Catalina nearly clean. Or the Rattlers did after the Fireflies abandoned the island. Who was to say? Fireflies… Rattlers… Wolves… Scars – or Seraphites – it didn’t matter what any of them called themselves. Humans were vultures, every last one of them. They tore at the bones of their once great cities, hollowing every structure they could get their greedy hands on. If it wasn’t covered in vines or infected with fungus, it was fair game.

That left Abby and Lev with a couple bags worth of supplies. They had guns, almost no food, and even less in the way of first aid after hours of scavenging. With daylight to spare, they got back in their boat and left for the coast.

Abby wasn’t sure if she wanted to hit the Rattler’s base, to see if there was anything left after the uprising. Was it worth it to test fate? What if some Rattlers were still alive? In her gut, she doubted it. Tied to that post, she heard the magnitude of gunshots. It reminded her of the invasion of Haven – all chaos and death. Whether Ellie had a hand in it or just a knack for showing up when shit was hitting the fan, it didn’t matter.

They’d drive the boat through the area and make the call from there. As they got close to shore, Abby slowed the boat and held up a pair of binoculars. She swept the buildings, finding blood splatter on walls, and the occasional body leaning back against a cypress – head lolled to the side, or hanging from a window – long streaks of blood running down the wall below it. She didn’t see any dead prisoners, so that was a good sign.

“Abby!” Lev pointed out to shore, near the posts.

Looking through the binoculars again, Abby cursed under her breath. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

Against all odds, the tide had come in and Ellie had crawled up the beach to avoid it. The small brunette was on her back, arms stretched out beside her. Her bag and weapons were nowhere to be seen.

“Is she dead?” Lev asked.

“She’s breathing.”

“We have to go help her.”

Irked, Abby stowed the binoculars. “We absolutely do not.”

Lev folded his arms in front of him. “What good comes from leaving her to die? The Prophet would say-”

Clicking her tongue, Abby shushed the boy. “I don’t care. She killed my friends. She came to kill us!” Expecting further argument, Abby waited. Lev only turned his head away, stubbornly looking out at the ocean he used to fear. Somehow, the silence stung more than anything else he could’ve said. “Oh, come on.”

“The Prophet would say,” Lev paused, waiting to see if he would be interrupted again. “Seeds cannot fruit, if they are not planted.”

“What? What does that even mean?” Of course, Abby knew what it meant. “She’s not a seed, she’s… I don’t know, a curse. She’s a fucking stick of a girl who runs on pure hatred. We’re better off if she’s dead.”

“Please, Abby,” Lev whispered.

Abby let her head fall back and groaned. “Fine.” Without another word, she angled the motor and steered them to land.

In less than two feet of water, Abby shoulder her pack and jumped out of the boat. “Bring the boat to shore, and then stay back,” she ordered Lev.

Pistol in hand, Abby took careful steps toward Ellie. Eyes kept closed against the bright California sun, Ellie didn’t notice her – so Abby reached out with her boot and nudged the figure.

“Hey,” Abby called out.

“Joel?”

Abby lowered her gun an inch. She didn’t answer, choosing instead to quietly watch Ellie get her bearings.

Eyes fluttering open, Ellie gave a dry laugh. “Found you.”

“Easy,” Abby responded. She lowered her gaze from Ellie’s sunburned face, looking down at her blood-soaked tank top. “You’re hurt.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Just get it… over with,” Ellie sputtered out.

Abby sucked in a breath, the pistol in her hands centering over Ellie’s chest like it knew just what to do. It was tempting, but Lev would be pissed. Abby shoved the pistol into the holster on her lower back.

“I’m not here to fucking kill you.”

“That makes one of us.”

Abby scoffed. This girl was all venom. It would have been endearing if Ellie’s hands weren’t absolutely soaked with the blood of her friends.

“You’re in no state to be making threats,” Abby pointed out.

Ellie got her hands under her. She pressed her palms into the hot sand and tried to push herself up. She had to get up. Abby was here, and Ellie had a promise to keep.

A hard boot landed on Ellie’s shoulder, pressing her back onto the beach. “Stay down,” Abby commanded. Crouching over Ellie, Abby pulled some rope from her bag. She tied Ellie’s hands, snarling as Ellie tried to fight that, too.

“Abby?” Lev questioned, walking up behind the girls.

“I told you to stay back!” Abby yelled, wrestling with holding Ellie’s wrists while looping rope over and between them.

“I didn’t listen.”

“I can tell. Get over here, Lev, and hold her down.”

Ellie growled. “Stop! Stop! Just fucking kill me!” She tried to pull away from Abby. She struck with her feet, kicking and digging into the sand beneath her. Where was all this energy when she had to crawl away from the tide? Why hadn’t she surrendered then? It would’ve been better to drown than deal with Abby again.

After a short struggle, Abby and Lev got Ellie’s hands secure. They let her go, watching as she sat up and twisted her arms.

Ellie moved her arms back and forth, trying to wiggle loose, but the rope was tight. She brought the rope to her mouth, biting at it with her teeth.

“Stop that,” Abby chided.

“Why?” Ellie asked. She bit down again, coming back with twine on her tongue. After spitting it out, she huffed in frustration. “You gonna torture me? Like you did to Joel?”

Abby and Lev glanced at each other. Without a word, Lev reached out and patted Abby on the shoulder. Ellie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It made her sick, so she went back to the rope – gnawing at it. The rough fibers cut her lip, but she didn’t quit.

“Will you fucking stop that?” Abby cursed. “We’re trying to help you.”

Ellie spit out another wad of twine and blood. She really didn’t have the saliva or blood to lose. “I don’t want your help.”

With soft steps, Lev paused in front of Ellie with a bottle. “It’s water,” he promised.

Ellie turned her head, spitting again. When she looked back, the water was still being offered to her. She was too thirsty to say no, so she swiped it away from Lev. Luckily, he had already opened it.

“Don’t drink all of it,” Abby said. And because Abby said it, Ellie did the exact opposite. She downed the entire thing in seconds. “We need it… to… rinse your wounds.” Abby sighed. “Never mind. I’ll find more.”

Ellie dropped the empty bottle with a smirk.

“Lev, stay here with her.” Abby stood directly in front of the boy, meeting his eyes to make sure he understood. “Keep your gun on her, and _do not_ – under any circumstance – let her loose.” Lev nodded, and with that, Abby kneeled by Ellie. “This wasn’t my idea,” she whispered. “If it was up to me, you’d rot on this beach alone-”

“I was trying to,” Ellie snarked back.

Staring Ellie down, Abby continued. “If you hurt him, I’ll find anyone else you have left… and I’ll-” Abby swallowed, fighting a lump in her throat. She left the threat as it was, unable to paint a more gruesome picture than an ambiguous one.

As Ellie dropped her head, Abby grabbed the empty bottle and stood. Shoving the container in her pack, she walked away.


	2. you could've grown roses (but you grew thorns)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind words so far :)
> 
> Please enjoy

“Wake up.”

Ellie startled, jerking up and squinting to try and make sense of the dark. Her wrists were still tied together; her body digging into the sand as she squirmed.

“Relax,” Abby spoke again. “It’s just me.”

_Hardly comforting,_ Ellie thought. A light was flashed in her face, obliterating the image of moonlit waves from her mind. Between ignoring Lev and resting her eyes, night had come. Ellie lifted her hands in front of her, trying to cut the beam of Abby’s flashlight.

“I got you some water.”

Ellie barely caught the bottle in time as it was tossed to her. “I can’t lift my shirt _and_ rinse the cut with my hands like this,” she lied. It could’ve been done, if she tried.

Abby’s hands reached through the light, stripping the water bottle from Ellie. “Then lift your shirt.”

“Untie me, instead.”

Abby gave a short laugh. “Not happening, Small Fry.”

“Fuck you!”

Suddenly, a knee came down on Ellie’s legs. Ellie tried to wiggle out from under it, baring her teeth like a cornered dog. She wasn’t able to get away from Abby. Despite how much bulk the other woman lost in captivity, Ellie’s wounds made her too weak to resist. Before she knew it, cool liquid was running down her side.

Realizing that Abby was trying to help her, Ellie stilled. She lifted her head up, wanting to see the cut while there was still light on it. Flecks of dried blood washed away, revealing a sickly kind of pink skin. Ellie was about to feel around the gash, looking for the unnatural warmth of infection, when another gush of clear liquid splashed over it.

This time, Ellie screamed.

“Easy,” Abby ordered. “It’s just alcohol… to kill any bacteria.”

Panting, knuckles white from strained fingers, Ellie growled. “I’m not stupid. I know what alcohol is.”

“Mmhm,” Abby placated. She capped the glass bottle, getting off Ellie while she did so. “Lev, you got the needle ready? We gotta stitch this up.”

A soft, “Yes,” came from nearby. “Keep the light on it. I’ll stitch her.”

Abby huffed at the offer. “I can do it.”

“No offense,” Lev snarked, “but you drive the needle in like a butcher – not a healer.” The boy grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling it to one side to reveal a crooked scar.

One side of Ellie’s lips curled upward. “That’s because she _is_ a butcher.”

Abby got in Ellie’s space, placing her knee and shin across Ellie’s legs again. “Look who’s talking. My father was the doctor, not me.”

Ellie kept her mouth shut, looking away from her captors. While she was sure the boy was trying to be gentle, he couldn’t make it painless. The tip of the needle stung, then burned as its length was dragged through her skin – over and over. Staring out at the water, Ellie wondered why they were really helping her. It would’ve been easier to believe that they were keeping her alive to make her suffer, but deep down – deep, deep down – under the hate that kept her broken heart knit together… she knew otherwise.

When Lev was done, he made Abby let Ellie up so he could wrap the wound. Ellie was too exhausted to argue or fight. As soon as the wound was bandaged, Ellie dropped her shirt and tried to sink back into the sand.

“Not so fast,” Abby said, placing her shoe between Ellie and the beach. “Get up. We can’t spend the night out here. It’s not safe.”

Ellie groaned. “Just untie me and go.”

Abby shook her head. She placed her hands under Ellie’s arms, picking her up until they were both standing. She only let Ellie go for a second before the smaller girl swayed, and Abby had to catch her again.

“Tomorrow,” Abby promised. “When it’s daylight, and you can stand on your own. Lev, help me get her in the boat.”

Ellie wasn’t very conscious for the short march to the ocean. She went in and out, aware of her heavy feet in the sand, then cold aluminum against her back as the boat gently rocked her to sleep.

* * *

The rising sun bathed the waters of the Pacific orange. Abby placed her hand on Lev’s shoulder to wake him. He came to in the bottom of the boat, laying between the seats like Ellie was doing in the front of the small vessel. Abby didn’t know how they could sleep like that. She didn’t even try to find a safe place to dock the boat so she could rest. Getting them north was more important.

“We’re going to shore,” she told Lev.

Abby turned the motor, steering them toward a rocky beach. It was hard to say how far north they had gone, but she was sure they were still in California. Large redwoods loomed in the distance, hugging the edges of rugged cliffs and going back as far as the eye could see. It would be rough terrain if they left the boat here, but there was no guarantee it would get any better either.

Before the propellers scraped the sandy ocean floor, Abby tipped the motor out of the water. She leapt out of the boat and began pushing it to shore. Straining with tired muscles, Abby closed her eyes and grunted. Suddenly, pushing the boat became easier. She opened her eyes, smiling as she saw Lev beside her.

“Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome,” Lev answered.

Making land, the boat listed to one side, Ellie sliding with it. Abby straightened up and walked to the side of vessel with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey,” she called out to Ellie. “This is your stop.” Reaching out, Abby dug her fingers into Ellie’s hair and lifted the young woman’s head up. She fully expecting to be screamed at and spat on, but Ellie’s eyes remained shut – her head falling down again when Abby released it. “Well, shit.”

“Is she dead?”

Abby didn’t answer. She scooped Ellie up and faced inland, brown eyes scouring for shelter. Ellie wasn’t dead. Her body was still warm, too warm for a person who had spent the night cradled by an aluminum dingy which provided no refuge from the wind that occasionally spit seawater onto them all.

“Grab our stuff,” Abby commanded. “We’re going to that house.” She nodded in the direction of a beach house. Vines carved paths over the red cedar shingles, climbing to the adobe roof – ravenous for whatever sunlight the trees left behind.

Carefully, Abby navigated the pebbled beach. Ellie was an unquantifiable weight in her arms, too heavy to carry for long and even heavier to abandon now that Abby had committed to helping her. As the three of them neared the house, Abby listened closely for the sound of infected. There were birds and crickets… no agonized screams or the trill of cracking vocal cords. The building sounded safe, but that wasn’t enough to convince Abby to bring Ellie inside without checking first.

Abby set Ellie down on a patio chair. With methodical movements, she placed the back of her hand on Ellie’s pale forehead. Hot. She raised the bottom of Ellie’s shirt and gently peeled back the bandage.

“Shit,” Abby cursed under her breath. “It’s infected. She’s burning up.”

Lev came up beside her, examining the wound to come to his own conclusion. “Hm, we need to find marigolds,” he mused. “Or aloe vera.”

Abby nodded. They had grown aloe in the stadium for its antiseptic properties. She didn’t remember marigolds there, but she had also never been a part of the more domestic upkeep Seattle required. Isaac saw that anger in her, that thirst for blood that made her a good soldier. He never sought to cultivate her soft side. Where someone else could’ve grown roses, he preferred thorns.

“Let’s clear the house,” Abby suggested. She grabbed her bag from Lev, putting one strap over her shoulder and grabbing the machete that was attached to the side. If there were any infected within, she’d dip into that deep well of fury and carnage and hack their overgrown mushroom-bodies to pieces.

* * *

The home was empty and free of spores. Abby carried Ellie’s limp body inside, laying her on a deflated-looking, threadbare couch. Briefly, she patted Ellie’s cheek, trying once more to get the young woman to open her eyes. Nothing changed. Sighing, Abby stood tall before gently leaning backwards. She waited for her back to pop and groaned when it did. God, how she missed her physical strength. Months of captivity had taken the pure bulk from her, the I-can-lift-anything attitude, and left with her new aches in strange places.

“You gonna stay here with her?” Abby asked her smaller companion.

Lev cocked his head and lifted his eyebrows in a way that said it all, but that didn’t stop him from ribbing Abby. “Do you even know what a marigold looks like?”

“It’s a flower,” Abby pointed out. “So, obviously, it has petals…”

“Mmhm,” Lev teased. “I’m coming with. Do you think she’ll care if I take her bow?”

Abby glanced at the three bags set by the front door. They had found Ellie’s pack in the surf while carrying her to the boat. Everything had dried out now, but Abby hadn’t found the time to go through it.

“She’s not gonna use it anytime soon,” Abby pointed out. “Just find a place to hide her stuff in case she wakes up.”

Lev grabbed the bow attached to the side of the bag, smiling at the weapon in his hands. With practiced ease, he wrapped his fingers around the string and pulled it back to his ear. His arms quivered a bit from the tension of the draw.

“She’s strong,” he commented.

“So are you,” Abby said as she picked up her backpack.

Lev cracked a smile, the kind that wrinkled the scars on his cheeks. Full of pride from Abby’s praise, he took a handful of Ellie’s arrows and then carried the bag into the garage to stash it. Before placing it under an old car, he examined the pins affixed to the fabric. He ran his fingers over the flat metal wings of one pin, wondering if Ellie would fly free when she got the chance.

If Abby was right… they’d have another fight on their hands. If it was them or Ellie, Lev’s loyalty was with Abby – as it always would be.

* * *

Within the hour, master-forager Lev and Abby returned to the house where they left Ellie. As it turned out, aloe vera was plentiful in California. If a life hadn’t been on the line, Lev would’ve insisted they stay out longer so he could find marigolds and show them to Abby. Any day he could give Abby a lesson on nature or other vital skills was a good day. Conversely, anytime Abby could punch her way out of a situation in front of Lev, she considered it a win in more ways than one.

Abby insisted on entering the building first. As she pushed open the front door, her eyes zeroed in on the couch in the living room – and the body upon it. Like a coma patient, Ellie hadn’t moved. She breathed on her own, but it was labored. Every chest-rattling breath made Abby wonder Ellie was going to make it.

Working quietly, Lev crushed the spiky aloe leaves and smeared the pale green mush onto a fresh bandage. Arms folded, Abby supervised as Lev changed the crusty bandage out for a fresh one. Abby tried not to think of her father – his light blue scrubs, his buffoonish smile whenever he discharged a patient… Lev wasn’t as goofy, but the kid was just as serious about helping people when he put his mind to it. And for some godforsaken reason he had decided to help Ellie.

When the medicated bandage was applied, Lev approached Abby. “What are we gonna do now?”

Abby took the side of her tongue between her teeth, lightly biting down on it as she thought. “We wait for her to wake up, or we build a stretcher and drag her with us toward Kansas City. Jackson is almost in the same direction,” she pointed out. “East.”

“You’re gonna pull her behind you?”

Abby shrugged. “Just until she wakes up, then she can fuck off on her own.”

Lev nodded. “Maybe the car in the garage works,” he suggested.

“That’s not ‘too Old World’ for you?”

Lev reached up, absentmindedly scratching at one of the long scars on his face. It seemed to be a tic he developed whenever his old beliefs clashed with the situation at hand. “It would be better than you having to drag her behind us.”

“We can check it,” Abby agreed. “But if it doesn’t work, we make the stretcher. I wanna get going as soon as possible.” Across the country, Kansas waited for them – its flat land cut by the great Mississippi river. It would be no small feat to get there. Whether or not Abby had to drag her sins behind her was up to Ellie and how fast she healed – or how fast she died.

Unfortunately for Abby, Lev’s solution didn’t pan out. The car was a classic, early 2000’s, zero-horsepower Rust Bucket Deluxe. Abby lightly kicked the bottom of one door, scowling as flakes of penny-colored metal dusted the floor. For the sake of being thorough, she popped the hood and showed Lev the battery with its corroded terminals – sky blue and overflowing with acid.

They were better off building the stretcher, so they spent the next hour gathering a blanket, duct tape, and cutting down two young trees of a similar size. After shaving off the branches, they folded the blanket around the poles and secured it with long strips of tape. When Ellie was placed on the stretcher, Lev pulled another blanket over her body, gently tucking it in where he could.

When they were ready to go, Lev retrieved Ellie’s bag while Abby kneeled to grab the poles by Ellie’s head. Abby stood carefully as Lev shouldered both packs. As she got to her full height, she laughed at the boy who looked absolutely smothered by the bags yet carried them no problem.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you just look like a donkey.”

Lev opened the front door, walking out first. “What’s a donkey?”

“Uh,” Abby faltered. She took her first few steps, carefully pulling Ellie across the threshold. “It’s like a small horse.”

“A pony?”

“No, not a pony. Well- Okay, yeah. Sorta like a pony, but it has long ears. They usually carry stuff, like all the bags you have right now. You’ve seriously never seen a donkey?”

Lev started down the street, turning on his heel to walk backwards once he knew where he was going. He watched Abby lug their living cargo and shook his head. “We only had horses on the island.”

Feeling like the litter was slipping from her hold, Abby readjusted her grip. She squeezed the sappy, green wood into her calloused hands and made a mental note to look for gloves at the next place they stopped.


	3. keep on dreaming (and dark scheming)

The next time Ellie woke, it was night in the forest. A crackling fire sent glowing sparks up toward the canopy of tall pines. A wavering note played in her ears, and it took some time for her brain to make sense of what she was hearing. It wasn’t the cry of an infant but a symphony of crickets – loud and screaming all around her.

Ellie tried to sit up and was winded by a sudden pain in her side. She pressed a hand against her ribs, surprised to find her wrists still bound together. The rope was looser than she remembered. As she finished righting herself, she worked her hands out of the binding and looked around. She was in a campsite with a pyramid of burning sticks to her right and two bodies – prone on the other side of the fire. There was a bag by her feet – her bag, she realized. Carefully, quietly… she crawled out of her blankets. Her hands and knees were stabbed by dry pine needles as she crept to her backpack. She pulled out a pistol and had to stop everything to drag in a long breath.

The gun shook in her hands. Every cell in her body was dripping with fatigue. _Come on,_ she encouraged. Getting her feet under her, she fought against the gravity that promised rest and stood. _You have to finish this._

Ellie staggered toward the sleeping figures. Illuminated only by a soft, wavering firelight and mostly covered by sleeping bags, Ellie couldn’t tell who was who. She chose the closest form, knowing she would probably have to kill Lev if she killed Abby. She still wanted to give the boy a chance though. She owed him that much.

“Get up,” Ellie croaked. Her voice sounded rough but weak to her ears. She nudged the body with her shoe. “Get the fuck up!” She was louder this time, rousing the campers awake in an instant.

Ellie watched as a short-haired head peaked out from the puffy billows of a sleeping bag. She saw Lev’s young face and pulled the hammer back on her gun.

“Don’t,” Abby begged. She had crawled from her spot by the fire and stood on her knees by Lev, hands raised. “He’s not a part of this.”

“You made him a part of this, and I made a promise to finish it.”

“I- I know you did.”

Ellie’s eyebrows narrowed as her attention turned to Abby. Behind the woman, laid on the ground, was Ellie’s latest battered journal. Knowing Abby read it made Ellie pale. Her enemy split her right down the middle and divined her secrets from guts spilled onto the forest floor. Every page and poem, all the scratched out words and sketches buried deep into the earth, and here came Abby with a shovel.

In a rage, Ellie pointed the gun at Abby and pulled the trigger. The hammer slammed forward with a click, but the gun was empty. She should have checked it first. She should have fucking checked it.

Ellie screamed and tried to dive for one of the other bags nearby. As she went down, Abby came up, tackling Ellie onto her back. Wheezing, Ellie struggled against the weight on top of her. She was feral, smashing her fists on every part of Abby that she could reach. Fingers gathered around her throat, but Ellie couldn’t pry them off.

Teeth grinding, eyes blurring with tears, Ellie reached out with one hand and kept the other on Abby – trying to pull the hands off her neck. She could hear Lev trying to call Abby off, but Abby shut it out. As the world got darker, Ellie got her other fingers around something hefty. She swung a burning stick at Abby, catching the woman in the temple. The thick piece of wood fell from Ellie’s grip, dropping into the hood of Abby’s sweatshirt and catching it on fire.

As Abby rolled off her to put out the flames, Ellie crawled backward. She took gasping breaths, like a fish out of water, and watched as Lev helped pat out the flames. Scrambling toward the campfire, Ellie grabbed another stick. Just as her fingers tightened around a branch, Abby was on her feet. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from Abby’s sweatshirt as she approached.

Ellie waved the stick around, trying to hit Abby or keep her back. With one last wild arc, the fire at the tip of the branch went out and left black wood separated by orange, smoldering cracks. Ellie rolled onto her stomach and tried to get to her feet, but Abby caught her by the ankle, dragging her back. With a grunt, Ellie twisted – sending shooting pain to her side and thrusting up with the branch. She dug the glowing end of the stick into Abby’s neck – robbing Abby of her breath and burning her. The stick wasn’t sharp enough to gouge Abby, but she let go of Ellie as she stepped back and choked. Abby’s hand went to her own neck, unable to soothe the sizzled flesh.

Returning to the offensive, Ellie tried to get up. She got to one knee as a loop of cord dropped around her head. She was yanked back by the neck, the knotted rope shrinking around her throat. The stick fell to the ground, Ellie pulled down beside it. As Ellie grasped at the cord, Abby came back down on top of her.

Ellie’s hands left the rope, and she tried to tear at Abby. She should’ve kept trying to remove the noose that Lev pulled tight, but she saw Abby’s brown eyes and she wanted to scratch them out. She never could draw them, anyway.

“Stop!” Abby screamed. “Fucking stop!”

Abby kept just out of reach as she attempted to secure the woman beneath her. Ellie kept struggling, even as her vision began to darken. Abby and Lev were both shouting at her, but she ignored them. The sun was rising, the fire still burning, but for Ellie it was a starless night as her oxygen-starved brain fought – and failed – to keep her awake.

* * *

**EARLIER THAT DAY**

“Lev, it’s the final entry. Listen to this:

I think I’m dying, Dina,  
And you’re not here.   
I’m feeling poetic;  
I’m bleeding fear.

But ‘fear’ is crossed out,” Abby added. She cleared her throat and turned the journal in her hands to read a note scribbled into the margins. “Rhyming is stupid. Abby is gone again, and my stitches broke. Fuck California. I take back what I said about it being pretty. You’ll never see it, but at least I can say it somewhere. Bye Dina. Take care of Potato. Sorry, Tommy. I tried.” Abby chewed on her bottom lip and turned back to the first page as she leaned against a tree. They were taking a break. Abby needed to rest her arms, and Lev had to change Ellie’s bandage.

“Well, I liked the rhymes.” Kneeling beside his patient, Lev pulled back a tan strip of cloth. The other side of the bandage was glistening with puss as it came off the wound. Lev pursed his lips. “I’m worried she might not make it.”

“Yeah, so was she.” Abby kept skimming the notebook. “She had a life in Jackson. She had this Dina-person and their family. I let her go, and she still came after me. The only thing that’s gonna stop all of this is if one of us dies.”

Lev prepped a fresh cloth, rubbing it with the aloe paste he kept in a jar. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“She’s never going to forgive me for what I did to Joel – like I’ll never forgive him for taking my dad from me. And I won’t forgive her for killing my friends either.”

Abby stowed the journal, slipping it into a plastic bag in Ellie’s backpack. It had been two days since Ellie fell unconscious in the boat. They had plenty of time to go through her stuff, emptying her guns of ammo and jacking whatever else they found useful.

Lev pulled down the bottom of Ellie’s shirt again, covering the fresh bandage. He looked up at Abby and placed a hand on one of the scars his own flesh and blood had given him. “The Prophet forgives all, so we don’t have to.”

Abby cocked her head. _This kid and his damn faith,_ she thought. On the one hand, it was sometimes inspiring; on the other, it was raving mad.

“We can still leave her,” Abby suggested. “We’ll make better time.” Lev crossed his arms, causing Abby to sigh. “It’s a mercy, Lev. We put her out of her misery- I… I’ll do it. Just go ahead, and I’ll catch up. You won’t hear a thing.”

“Abby…”

Laying in the gurney, unmoving except for the subtle rise and fall of her chest, Ellie was a hundred-and-some pounds of dead weight. Her freckled face was pale, and her lips chapped more with every passing day. If she didn’t wake soon and consume something – she was a goner. A little bit of water dribbled down Ellie’s throat every time they stopped wasn’t going to keep Ellie alive.

Lev gazed at their old enemy as birds called high above them. Their trek was getting no easier the further they got from shore. Northern California was chiseled with sloping mountains and thick forests. Reaching up to brush the corner of a damp eye, Lev turned away from Abby. He grabbed his bag, leaving Ellie’s behind.

Walking ahead, he told himself not to listen. Although he knew he wouldn’t hear a gunshot, he expected the snap of a neck or the cut the knife to be loud just the same. His feet carried him forward, stepping on every stick, kicking every pile of leaves; he had to make more noise than what he left behind. He couldn’t save his mother, couldn’t save Yara, and couldn’t save Ellie. One day, he probably wouldn’t be able to save Abby either.

Wiping more tears, his ears picked up the steady, dragging sound of the litter. Hopeful, he spun around and smiled when he saw Abby faithfully pulling Ellie behind her. There was nothing to say. Abby’s decision was her own, but Lev felt in his heart that it was the right one. He ran to Abby, pulling Ellie’s bag from her back so he could carry it again and do his part.

* * *

After the fight at the campsite, Abby and Lev used the rest of their duct tape to secure Ellie to the stretcher. That was how Ellie woke, strapped to the gurney like Frankenstein’s monster before the lightning brought him to life.

Ellie blinked repeatedly, forcing her eyes to adjust to the afternoon sun. She began to wiggle against the tape, taking quick, shallow breaths as the feeling of being cornered crept in.

“Lev,” Abby called as she set the gurney down. “Stop. She’s awake.”

“Seriously?” Ellie rasped. “Why don’t you just fucking end it?”

“Why don’t you?!” Abby snapped back.

The tone struck something in Ellie. She hadn’t expected her question to be turned back on her, and it caused her to take stock. Motionless on the ground, Ellie looked up at the woman she had hunted for months. Abby’s short hair was less wild, flattened to one side, and more bleached than ever. Her neck was pink and blistered from where Ellie had burned her. The visible wound brought a grin to Ellie’s face.

This would end when the veins in Abby’s neck pulsed no more – and not a second sooner.

“You didn’t have to help me,” Ellie pointed out.

“Trust me, I know that.”

Before more could be said – or argued about – Lev got on his knees beside Ellie with a water bottle. “Lift her up so she doesn’t choke.”

Ellie turned her head away. “Just let me fucking die.”

“Dina wouldn’t want you to die,” Lev argued.

“You don’t say her fucking name. You don’t know her, and you don’t know me.” Ellie curled her hands into fists.

The gurney lifted, and Lev held out the bottle, uncapped, but Ellie still refused. “We shouldn’t have read your journal,” he admitted. “But we were trying to understand what brought you here.”

“I’m just here to kill Abby.”

“Well… I’m not going to let you do that, so you’re going to have to pick another reason to keep going.”

Ellie’s throat tightened. She was so goddamn thirsty. Her eyes betrayed her, glancing at the crystal-clear liquid in Lev’s hand. She was just about to turn toward Lev when he gave up.

“Put her down,” he told Abby.

As the gurney lowered, Ellie swallowed and felt her throat crack. She wouldn’t beg… She wouldn’t.

With a sudden flash of steel, Lev cut the tape holding Ellie’s shoulders. Abby tried to stop him, grabbing his arm.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking a leap of faith,” Lev answered. He grabbed the knife with his free hand and continued to slide it beneath the tape. He cut and cut, all the way down, until Ellie was unrestrained.

Instead of flying into another rage and attacking, Ellie reached for the bottle by Lev’s shoes. She sat up and took a long drink. In silence, Ellie drank until liquid spilled from the corners of her mouth, and Abby kept one hand on the pistol behind her back.

When the bottle was empty, Ellie set it back down like a somewhat civilized human being. She stared up at Lev, finding a familiar string hoisted over his shoulder. “That’s my bow.”

“It’s served me well, but I’ll give it back to you when we part ways. I doubt you could draw it right now, anyway.”

Ellie slouched forward, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it. Instead, she worked on the tape stuck to her clothing. With clumsy fingers, she pulled off the bindings. It was a struggle to get to her feet but she managed.

“My bag?” she asked, willfully holding out one hand.

Lev shared a glance with Abby before he swung the bag off of his shoulder and gave it to Ellie. Utterly determined not to drop it, Ellie slid one strap over her arm and let it settle against her back, but one measly step forward brought her to her knees.

“God, you’re stubborn,” Abby muttered. She went to Ellie’s side and offered her hand. Ellie didn’t take it. “If you go off on your own now, you’re not going to make it. Come with us,” she suggested. “Stop trying to fucking kill us, and I’ll give you a rematch when you’re healed. No weapons, no interference – just you and me. To the death.”

“Abby!” Lev cried.

Ellie looked at the hand, remembering how it squeezed the rubber grip of the gold club that cracked Joel’s head open – and she took it. She stood with Abby’s help, letting go as soon as she was able.

“Deal,” Ellie whispered.

Ellie walked for all of one hour on her own. She was always a good ten yards behind, slowing the group down because she was determined but exhausted. Abby kept an eye on the brunette, looking over her shoulder every minute until she saw Ellie faint.

With a long sigh, Abby untied the gurney secured to her pack and laid it out again. Fucking Ellie. If Lev was a donkey, Ellie was an ass. There was a new cut on Ellie’s brow from where she had fallen. With Lev’s help, Abby got Ellie back on the gurney – unsecured and unconscious.

Just as Abby began to pull the gurney again, Lev walked beside her. “Why did you promise to fight her?”

“Taking a leap of faith just like you, kid.”


	4. santa (barbra)

For the rest of the day, Ellie was up and down – marching through the exhaustion or laying on the gurney, succumbing to it. By nightfall, a fever had her shivering as she rested next to the campfire Abby and Lev built.

Lev kneeled down next to Ellie, eyes sweeping over his patient. Ellie was wrapped in her blanket, using her backpack as a pillow. There were tiny beads of sweat on her forehead, but the longer Lev stayed, the more Ellie tried to quell her tremors.

“What do you want?” Ellie asked.

“I brought you food and water.”

Knowing she had to consume something, Ellie sat up. In one of Lev’s hands was a bottle of water, in the other – a cluster of roots.

“They’re edible, I promise.” Lev plucked one of thinner roots from the group and popped it into his mouth to chew.

Ellie palmed the roots like a timid animal and turned them over in her hand to examine them. They were bulbous and hairy with tiny offshoots. All evidence of their earthy home was rinsed clean, so Ellie brought one up to her mouth and tore off a piece with her teeth. It was chewy, wet, and tasted of bitter dirt all at once. It was an experience Ellie quickly tried to wash away with a swig of water.

She got through a pair of roots before she had to crawl out of her blankets and vomit. She knew Lev and Abby were watching her from their side of the fire, but she couldn’t stop her body from rejecting what she ate.

Lev held a long stick, poking it into the embers and making shapes in the ash as he sat beside Abby. “I didn’t think it was possible for her to be worse off by being awake,” he whispered.

Abby snorted but kept her voice low, too. “Then we have to make sure she rests. I could knock her out.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Lev dragged the stick through the grey powder and found himself drawing flowers. It was amazing what plants could do. Aloe was helping fight Ellie’s infection; there were plants that could help her sleep, too – if he could find them.

* * *

Best they could figure, they were somewhere in the middle of northern California. The landscape began to drop, cradling a valley that was dense with tall brush and fewer trees. After walking for several hours that morning, Ellie was unconscious again. Of course, she couldn’t _say_ when she needed help; she had to be on the verge of collapse, down on her knees and barely coherent when Lev noticed and ran back to assist.

Lev was considering taping Ellie to the gurney again when Abby called out to him.

“Lev, look at that.”

His first instinct was to notch an arrow, but the countryside had been light on infected and Abby’s tone was mystified – not anxious. He stepped up to the other side of Abby, looking in the direction of her gaze. On a hill, quite a distance away, he saw the burly forms of small horses.

“Donkeys,” Abby explained.

There were eight of them – all brown with white bellies. Their thick necks were bent; their light-colored muzzles picking at the grass. Occasionally, one lifted its head to check for danger. At the sight of the oversized ears, Lev smiled wide.

“That’s so cold.”

“Cool,” Abby recited, as was their bit the entire way from Seattle to Santa Barbra. She set the gurney down and watched the donkeys with Lev. The animals didn’t seem to mind the company, grazing their way through drought-resistant sedges and ignoring a few patches of orange flowers. If Lev thought donkeys were something, he would’ve loved seeing a zebra…

As Abby’s thoughts went black and white, she hustled them along. She couldn’t dwell on things long gone. Maybe those zebras she saved with her dad were still alive somewhere, but it was more likely that they were dead.

Lev cut straight toward the donkeys, and Abby was about to say his name when he bent down and picked some flowers. The herd was still far off, but all their heads were raised. As Lev walked back to Abby, a high bray echoed through the valley. Lev nearly dropped his plants, and Abby laughed at the wheezing donkey.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “They’re just saying goodbye.”

Lev waved at the beasts, and then rejoined his friend. He tucked his flowery prize into his bag, but not before explaining his find. “Poppies. I can brew them into a tea that should help Ellie sleep.”

“You’re going to drug her?”

“Only a little.”

Abby smirked with pride. She could take apart a semi-automatic and put it back together with her eyes closed, but Lev’s nature-craft was second to none. Sometimes she had to hand it to the Seraphites. Cutting their ties to the Old World, left plenty of room for a more natural way of life.

“Something tells me she’s not going to be happy about that,” Abby pointed out.

“Then we don’t tell her.”

* * *

Half a mile later, there was another distant bray. Abby glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the herd of donkeys walking in the same direction they were. Instead, there was a single creature. It shook its head, displacing the bugs that harassed it before it brayed again. Abby scowled. The last thing they needed was something announcing their presence.

“Go on,” she hollered.

“Why isn’t it with the others?” Lev wondered.

“I don’t know. Let’s just keep going.”

Twenty minutes later, there was another airy scream. Behind them, the donkey kept pace, and the rest of its group was nowhere to be seen. Abby told Lev to ignore it, sure that the creature would turn around and rejoin its herd eventually.

They went on like this for over an hour. Just when Abby thought the donkey had given up, she’d twitch at the sound of another whining bray. Every fifteen minutes or so – like clockwork – the donkey would call, and Abby and Lev would look behind them to find the beast about thirty yards away. It never drew any closer, but it wouldn’t stop following them either.

“God damn it,” Abby cursed after a particularly loud wheeze. She was about to keep trudging on when Lev turned around. “Lev!” The boy ignored her, and Abby huffed as she rested the gurney in the field. “What are you doing?”

Lev spoke but not to Abby. “Hey, it’s okay.” Holding out his hand, he closed the distance with the animal. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The donkey shifted on its feet, twitching its ears back and forth. If Lev couldn’t send it away, Abby was ready to grab her pistol and fire it into the air. She stood with her arms crossed, watching Lev’s slow approach.

The more patience Lev showed, the more agitated Abby grew. She wanted to be out of this valley before night fell. There was no cover here, and Ellie wasn’t getting any lighter. Abby huffed and went to the bags that Lev left behind. She grabbed a bottle of water, and by the time she capped it again, she saw Lev leading the donkey toward them with a handful of grass.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Hands on her hips now, Abby didn’t say anything else until Lev brought the donkey over. It was a shaggy creature, its muddy brown coat full of scars that spoke of age and experience. Abby didn’t know how old donkeys could be, but this one was up there. Maybe it was old enough to have known human masters before the outbreak. Either way, it was surprisingly comfortable around them.

“Lev, what the hell?”

Grinning as he scratched the donkey’s neck, Lev shrugged. “Maybe he could pull Ellie?”

“Lev… we’re just gonna get him killed. Or he’s going to get us killed.”

When the boy’s shoulders fell and his smile faded, Abby knew she messed up. She looked over the animal again. There were patches of hairless skin on its face in the same places a halter would rest.

Carefully, Abby reached out with the back of her hand. Whiskers tickled her skin as the donkey sniffed and blew a warm breath over her. She didn’t even realize she was smiling as she pet the donkey’s face.

“Can you tie some rope into a halter?”

Lev nodded eagerly and dove for the bags. Fishing out some rope, he threaded and twisted it into shape before giving it to the animal to smell.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Abby said. She marveled as donkey stood still and accepted the halter. “You’re going to have to find a way to keep him quiet, but...” She couldn’t argue against taking the donkey with them anymore. If it really could pull Ellie, it was “Prophet-sent” as Lev would say.

“I don’t think that will be a problem anymore. Isn’t that right, Santa?” Lev patted the donkey on the belly before leading it forward.

Abby only stood in place, a little shell-shocked from the name Lev bestowed on the donkey. “That’s what you’re calling it?” Of course Abby knew who Santa was, or what he was supposed to be, but she doubted that Lev knew.

“After Santa Barbra.”

Abby cocked her head. “Now, why would you wanna name it after that awful fucking place?”

“The land wasn’t awful, just the people.” With more rope, Lev began working out how to fashion a travois. “Besides, words connect us to our surroundings and experiences, and we can connect them to other things. When you think about Santa Barbra, you could think of our captivity, and the beatings… or you can think about our new friend.” Smiling, Lev pushed his fingers through the donkey’s short mane and felt the bristles. The donkey’s shoulders twitched before it leaned toward Lev. “We need longer sticks.”

Abby didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, she walked off toward a few juvenile trees to cut them down. Now, it was way too late to say no to the animal; Lev had named the damn thing.

* * *

Ellie woke to the sun low in the sky. Lev was kneeling by a fire, turning small chunks of red mystery meat on a spit. Abby was nowhere to be seen, but there was a donkey in her place – so Ellie was probably still in the throws of a fever dream. _Yeah, fever dream,_ she decided.

She was going to roll over, but the smell of cooking food made her jaw ache. Ellie pushed her blanket off and sat up. The donkey was plucking spiky grass with its teeth, hooves sinking into the sandy ground. The tall pines on the coast of California had been replaced with Joshua trees and cacti.

“Where are we?”

Lev left the meat alone and walked toward the donkey. “Nevada, we think. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

Ellie rubbed the side of her mouth, knocking away a light crust of old spit, and frowned. This wasn’t a dream. “You… have a donkey?”

Fishing through a bag strapped to the animal’s back, Lev nodded. “This is Santa.”

“As in Santa Claus?”

“Santa who?” Lev filled a pot with a jug of water before putting the jug away and returning to the fire. In his other hand, he rolled and crushed a few plants into tiny pieces and added them to the pot.

“Santa,” Ellie repeated. “Guy with a beard, delivers presents…” She trailed off, attention pulled to the droplets of grease that fell from the meat and sizzled when they met flames.

Abby suddenly walked into camp, carrying a dead rabbit by its feet. “Don’t bother,” she told Ellie. “Seraphites don’t have holidays like the old ones.”

At the sight of Abby, Ellie’s stomach turned. The woman’s hair was a bit longer, the burn on her neck healed with pink skin. How long had Ellie been out of it this time?

“That’s true,” Lev agreed. He set the pot of water on the coals and went back to the saddlebag for a cup. “But we celebrate harvests and births.”

Just like that, all of Ellie’s desire for conversation evaporated. She watched the water boil, plant debris riding bubbles to the surface before sinking to the bottom of the pot again. Abby sat across from Lev and took out her knife to cut into the rabbit.

Unfortunately for Ellie, Abby didn’t let sleeping dogs lie. “So, Tommy is still alive?”

Ellie didn’t look up. Her blood simmered like the water in the pot; her eyes reflecting fire. “He’s a cripple now.”

Abby dug her fingers into the fur and pulled the skin off the rabbit. “At least he’s alive. That’s more than any of my friends can say.”

“Your friends deserved what they got.”

The blade that moved through the rabbit stilled. Abby stared at Ellie from across the fire, daring her to look up. “Even Owen and Mel’s child? She was pregnant, you know.”

Ellie sat with her arms on her knees and wrung her hands. “I didn’t know,” she admitted. “Not until it was too late.”

“Would you have spared them, if you knew?”

“Owen didn’t give me that choice.”

Abby pulled the knife from the rabbit, gesturing at Ellie with the bloody metal tip. “Don’t you pin their deaths on him.”

Ellie finally glanced up from the campfire. Abby was agitated, so Ellie prepared herself for a fight. She got her hands under herself, about to push up from the ground when Abby’s ire turned elsewhere.

“You killed them, but it’s my fault they’re dead. They’d still be alive – all of them – if I hadn’t hunted Joel down.”

_Can’t argue with that,_ Ellie thought to herself. By the logic, Jesse’s death was Ellie’s fault, too, but that sentiment was nothing new. Ellie went back to slouching and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her side as their little fireside chat died like an ember in an ice storm.

After the liquid simmered for a while, Lev moved it away from the fire. When it was cool enough, he dipped a tin mug into it and brought its contents over to Ellie.

“It’s tea,” he explained. “Made with lavender.” And poppies, but he didn’t say that part.

Ellie took the cup and sniffed at the floral scent rising with the steam. “Thanks.”

“Meat will be done soon. You should try and stay awake long enough to eat some.”

Abby looked up from her work, steadying the knife she was using to flay her latest kill. Lev turned away from Ellie and grimaced, afraid that he’d given up the secret of the tea.

Ellie blew on the liquid before taking a drink. “I think I’ve slept enough for a lifetime.”

Tense moment gone, Lev returned to Abby’s side. He took the small lumps of rabbit as they were given to him and stuck them onto the spit.

Ellie drained the tea and set the cup down beside her. She got up once to relieve herself, but by the time she was back at the campsite, her eyelids were heavy. She watched the roasting meat, head drooping every so often before she shook herself awake again.

One extra-long blink later, Lev was handing her the back half of a rabbit. She dug her fingers into the warm meat, tearing away greasy strands of flesh that tried to cling to tiny bones. By the time the food was gone, the sun was high in the sky. There was a full day of travel ahead, but Ellie – once again – wasn’t awake for it. She kept her food down and slept through Abby carrying her to the travois.


	5. two enemies (with a side of seraphite)

Days went by, but Ellie was too drugged to note much about their passing. She was awake long enough for breakfast – and tea – then fell back asleep before they got on the road. She dreamt of swishing donkey tails, wispy clouds, and mushroom-covered faces – never realizing that the fog in her brain was there on purpose until she woke up one morning and saw her breath hanging in the air.

It was cold outside. They were in the middle of the desert, camped by a gas station on a broken road that led to more nowhere. The plants that grew between the cracks of pavement were covered in frost. Ellie sat up from her stretcher and rubbed her eyes. As the blanket fell away from her body, she was hit with a chill.

On the other side of the road, the donkey slept on its feet. A white mist of warm breath blew from its nostrils, just like Ellie’s breath did now. That didn’t seem right. It was early summer when she got to California, so there was no way it was autumn now. No way…

Ellie fought the urge to shut her eyes again. She quietly watched as Abby and Lev woke and went about their business. Lev brewed his tea, that no one else ever drank…

Cradling her head, skull heavy in her hands, Ellie took the warm mug when it was handed to her. “What’s in this?”

“Lavender,” Lev answered. “To help you relax at night.”

“It’s not night.” Ellie held the tea out, but instead of giving it back to Lev, she poured it out on the ground beside her. “I think I’ll just have water.”

“But- But- the tea will help you heal.”

Setting the mug down, Elle went to her shirt and pulled it up. She peeled back the top of the bandage and narrowed her brows. _No way,_ she thought. _There’s no way this should be that healed._

Dropping her shirt, Ellie curled her hands into tight fists. “How long… Where are we? Where were you taking me?”

Sensing the commotion, Abby stepped forward. “We’re taking you back to Jackson. We’re in Utah, right now.”

Ellie closed her eyes as the ground swayed. _What was in that fucking tea?_ She missed traveling through all of Nevada. She wanted to be mad; she was a little, but the wound in her side had shrank. It wept clear liquid, instead of blood and puss. Whatever Lev had done, she was still alive because of him. No matter how she despised the method, they were days away from Wyoming. Days away from Dina and JJ…

And Abby was still alive.

“Were you just going to drop me off and run?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe,” Abby answered.

“You still owe me a fight.”

“I remember.”

Ellie shook her head, willing the exhaustion away. When she looked up again, Abby had changed. Her blonde hair was longer, hanging past her ears in shaggy waves, and her figure had regained some of the bulk she lost. Ellie was grateful that they were both doing better. It would be a fair fight to death this time – exactly what she wanted.

“Where are you going after Jackson?” Ellie wondered.

Abby snorted. “I won’t be going anywhere if you win,” she pointed out.

“Where are you going if _you_ win?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Ellie got up from the gurney, stretching out her back as she stood. “Neither was my journal, but that didn’t stop you.”

Lev sighed at the bickering women. “We’re looking for the Fireflies.”

“Lev!”

The boy shrugged. Abby stepped toward him with a frustrated expression, and the two held a quiet conservation that Ellie couldn’t hear. Ellie was going to try and read lips when movement caught the corner of her eye.

Santa was throwing his head up and down, ears swiveling, back left leg just off the ground – ready to kick something.

“Guys,” Ellie muttered. She scanned the horizon, focusing on the direction Santa kept turning his ears toward. She saw a large outcropping of fractured rock – then she saw movement. A dark shape passed in front of the orange stone before getting lost behind the twisting trunk of an old juniper tree.

Ellie glanced back at Abby and Lev, but they were still arguing. “Hey,” she said louder. “I need my ammo back.” Without waiting to see if her message got through, Ellie went over to their collection of bags. She didn’t grab her own, but fiddled through Abby’s.

When Abby finally noticed that Ellie was arming up, she stopped talking to Lev and sauntered over. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Ellie chambered a round into her rifle, slamming the bolt forward and pulling it down before she aimed the gun at the rocky spire and fired. “I’m saving our lives,” she answered as she reloaded.

A Runner collapsed into the desert bramble. Blood leaked out of the hole in its head, flowing over the hard earth. For a brief moment, the body looked like Joel’s. Ellie reloaded her rifle and steadied it against her shoulder as another Runner sprinted at them. It was flanked on both sides by a handful of Runners and Clickers. The screams and clicks rang out like an excited dinner bell. The menu? Two enemies with a side of Seraphite.

In Ellie’s mind, she was locked in the chalet outside of Jackson. Every time she fired – her boot hit a stair as she descended into the basement that changed her life forever. Her footfalls were explosive. _Bang. Bang. BANG._

_Ellie turned the handle and slammed her shoulder into the door. No one was going to get a jump on her this time. She was going to save Joel._

_It happened faster than she could’ve prepared for. The body bleeding out on the floor… the hulking person above – angry and holding a golf club… the spectators, the antagonizers… Ellie aimed her gun and fired. Between the muzzle flashes and clattering bullet casings, Ellie slaughtered them all. Every last one of them._

_When the last perpetrator dropped onto the floorboards, Ellie lowered her pistol. She did it; she finally did it. The champion strode forward, placed her heavy shoe against the golf club-wielding villain and pushed the body over onto its back._

_Joel’s glassy eyes looked up at her. “No,” Ellie whispered. She cradled her head, gun still in one hand. Its hot barrel felt warm against her temple as she grappled with what she’d done. It wasn’t possible. She got another look at the bodies around her. Dina, Jesse, Maria, Tommy – all dead by her hands._

_Tortured, whimpering, Abby tried to push herself up from the floor. “Ellie, help me,” she begged._

As Ellie dropped her rifle and fell to her knees, Abby strengthened the grip on her machete in one hand, a pistol in the other. “Ellie!” Her cry couldn’t rouse the girl. Something was going on with Ellie, but the hoard that spilled out of the desert gave Abby no time to deal with it.

“Shit,” Abby cursed. She glanced back at Lev to tell him to get ready to fight, but he was already notching an arrow against Ellie’s bow. Ellie killed the first five; the rest were left for them, and there was at least a dozen. The Runners screamed, and the Clickers flailed their arms as they got close. But one by one, the infected fell with lead-smattered brains or the thin shaft of an arrow pierced through their fungal heads. Hiding behind gas station pumps, Lev and Abby were a deadly team.

When the last round was fired, the last arrow loosed, and the last Runner crumpled onto the sandy ground – Abby looked over at Ellie. The girl was muttering to herself, eyes closed, hands tearing at her hair.

Abby tried a gentle approach. “Hey…” She drew closer, weapons sheathed and hands out. “Ellie, it’s okay.” Sentences from Ellie’s journal replayed in her mind.

_“I don’t seem to have them out here – the night terrors. The panic attacks. I eat, I sleep, knowing every day could be my last. Maybe the extra adrenaline helps keep all the shit at bay. Either way, I feel better out here than I did at the farmhouse. How fucked up is that?”_

Growing up with a doctor for a father, Abby recognized PTSD when she saw it. When she got close enough, she kicked the rifle away from Ellie and then placed a gentle hand on Ellie’s shoulder.

“Come back.”

Ellie’s head whipped up, eyes boring past Abby’s flesh and bone – right into her soul, assuming she had one.

“Don’t touch me,” Ellie barked.

Slowly, Ellie got back to her feet. She grabbed her rifle and made it spit an empty gold casing into the air. It clattered to the broken pavement, rolling until it collided with Abby’s boot.

“I’m out,” Ellie said.

Had Ellie been anyone else, Abby would’ve complimented her shooting. That was the kind of marksmanship that drew Isaac’s notice. In the Wolves, Ellie would have been a soldier – there was no doubt in Abby’s mind. Hell, Ellie may have even been Isaac’s favorite instead of Abby. But he was dead, and the Wolves had probably dissolved into chaos without him, so who knew…

“Me too,” Abby responded. Ellie’s episode was already long forgotten. What good would it do to bring it up? Ellie wasn’t going to talk about it with someone she considered an enemy, and Abby didn’t really want to hear about it. Abby was about to kick the empty shell when something caught her attention.

From behind a dumpster tucked against the gas station, a fungal-figure lunged – diving at Ellie. It was a Stalker, quiet on its approach but deadly when it got close. Ellie was tackled to the ground; her rifle was the only obstacle between gnashing teeth and a fucked-up face. As Ellie grunted, trying to push the creature off, Abby approached and raised her machete. Abby didn’t think, only chopped down and sank her blade into Cordyceps’ neck – cutting through the spinal column and killing it.

Ellie pushed the limp Stalker aside, hanging onto her rifle as she got back to her feet. If Abby had been anyone else, she would’ve said thank you.

Lev locked his fingers around the feathered end of the arrow that was pulled back against his bow and slowly released the tension that would’ve sent it flying. “Ellie, you’re bleeding.”

Ellie looked down at her once-white tank top. An old, brown stain bloomed crimson. “Son of a bitch.” She brought a hand up, pressing it to the spot and applying pressure.

Putting away the bow, Lev took charge. “Let’s get into the gas station, so I can take a look.”

Santa followed the trio right inside and nudged Abby with his muzzle when she held the door open for him. Abby gave the donkey a look, which he ignored. With three people and a donkey, the place was cramped. Lev went to the counter and knocked off everything that was still on top of it. Snack wrappers and a rusted magazine rack clattered to the floor. Santa went down one of the aisles, pushing his nose into empty wholesale boxes that once held candy.

Without help, Ellie got situated on top of the counter. She partially raised her shirt and craned her neck to try and get a look at the injury as Lev peeled the wet bandage off.

“You broke a few. I don’t think I should try to restitch them. There’s not enough unbroken skin around to close the wound again.”

Ellie grit her teeth, trying to ignore the renewed pain of her stubborn injury. Lev was probably right. The area where the stitches pulled through the skin was all tore up. At this point, pushing a needle and thread through her skin again would be like putting more holes in a bucket that already leaked. Best they could do now was rebandage and keep Ellie from moving too much.

After Lev applied a new dressing, he helped Ellie sit up. “You’re going to have a nasty scar.”

“I have a lot of those.” Ellie held out her tattooed arm. “Acid burns, to cover up a bite mark.” She ran her fingers over the bubbled flesh.

Lev followed with his eyes before turning around and pointing at a couple of pitted marks at the base of his skull, just off-center from his spine. “Fell out of a tree and landed on a rock.”

The pair showed off another few scars to each other. Abby didn’t participate but looked rather unamused as she stood guard by the door. She glanced over at Santa who was still prowling through the back of the store. The donkey was walking around with one hoof stuck in an old cardboard box.

“And these,” Lev continued, pointing to his cheeks. “Ritual scars. I flinched on my first one, but they’re supposed to be fluid lines. The smoother the line, the stronger your devotion to the Mother.”

“That’s a pretty fucked up thing to do a child.”

Abby leaned back against the door and nodded at Ellie. “Yeah, it is. Same with their child brides.”

“Their what?” Ellie sneered in disgust. “Well, fuck those guys.”

Lev wasn’t always able to reconcile his old beliefs with his new life but coming from Ellie – he was a little more likely to listen. After all, she was immune; she was special. Lev reached up again, digging his nails into the canyon of a scar on his cheek.

“They meant well,” he muttered.

Abby shook her head, and Ellie mulled over her thoughts. As Santa chewed on an old wooden shelf, Ellie was the only one to speak when she finally decided what to say.

“No, they didn’t, Lev. No kid deserves that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you guys for the comments. They make my day :)


	6. my mind and my gun (they comfort me)

After a short breather at the gas station, the travelers got back on the road. They walked for hours before they wandered into a small city. Everyone kept their eyes open as the sun touched the top of the tallest building downtown. It was an old motel, perfect for spending the night indoors – _if_ it was free of infected.

Abby decided that they would find out. She gave Ellie the last box of rifle ammunition she had, frowning as she shook it and discovered that it was almost empty. Three bullets were better than none, but she prayed that none of them ended up making jelly out of her grey brain matter.

“Ellie, why don’t you stay out here with Santa?”

As the brunette thumbed rifle rounds into a clip, she said nothing. The donkey was better company anyway.

Abby walked to the front door. It was barricaded from the outside with a long plank cast through rusted handles. “Come on, Lev.” Abby pulled on the board and walked inside with a flashlight in one hand, her machete in the other. Lev followed behind, giving Ellie a last look before he disappeared into the building.

Ellie pressed the clip into the gun, and then loaded the first bullet. She carefully slung the rifle over her shoulder but still winced at the pain of moving with an open wound. Santa moseyed to the other side of the road and plucked at dying grass with his teeth. He didn’t seem concerned that Abby and Lev had left him, but Ellie supposed he was used to staying behind with her.

With a sigh, Ellie shifted on her feet. This would have been a good time to write in her journal, but what if something happened and the words found their way to Abby again? _Fuck it,_ she decided. Lev, in his cleverness, had found a way to strap Ellie’s bag to Santa’s back so she wouldn’t have to carry it, so Ellie approached and fished out her notebook.

On the first clean page, she wrote in large, bold letters.

**ABBY, IF YOU'RE READING THIS - FIRST OFF, FUCK YOU.**

**I’m somehow not dead. Not yet. Nothing makes sense right now. I’m traveling with the very person I was hunting down, and at the end of all of this – one of us is going to die. We agreed on that. I didn’t think that fight would happen in Jackson’s backyard, but at least I’ll be buried close to Joel.**

**Maybe not buried…**

**Abby, if you’re reading this – secondly, don’t leave my body where someone from Jackson will find it. Burn it, bury it, I don’t care.**

Ellie always went back and forth on whether she wanted her journals to end up in Dina’s hands or not. Sometimes, she wrote directly to Dina anyway. Other times her words were far too dark for Dina’s light.

She did know that she didn’t want her body to pass through the gate into Jackson. It wouldn’t be fresh, and she couldn’t stand the idea of Dina seeing her corpse in whatever state of rot it was found. Bloated, decayed, or sun-dried skin over yellowing bones – she wouldn’t subject Dina to that.

Not after what happened in Seattle…

* * *

_“Dina?” Ellie begged. She rolled onto her stomach and crawled to her girlfriend using only one arm. The other limb, she kept close to her chest. Sitting back onto her heels, she caressed Dina’s face. Her fingertips slid through Dina’s blood, and she whimpered as Dina opened her eyes._

_“Ellie? Are you okay?”_

_Ellie scooted closer and placed her hand around the arrow sticking out of Dina’s chest. She winced as Dina cried out in pain. “I- I’m fine. I think my arm’s broken, but… Jesse… Jesse’s dead. To-Tommy might be, too.”_

_Dina’s brown eyes fell shut, sadness etching long lines across her forehead. “Fuck.”_

_“Come on,” Ellie pleaded. “I need you to sit up. We- We have to get this arrow out.”_

_“Ow, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Dina groaned as she moved into a better position._

_Ellie placed one of Dina’s hands by the arrow, making her grab onto the shaft. “Hold on tight.” Without any more warning, Ellie reached around to where the arrow poked through and snapped off the feathered end. Dina screamed._

_“I know.” Ellie tried to be comforting. “I know. I’m sorry.” She tossed the back half of the arrow away and gently pressed her forehead against Dina’s. “It’s gonna be okay,” she promised. “Look at me.” When Dina complied, Ellie watched as tears mixed with the blood on Dina’s face. She wrapped her fingers around the arrow sticking out of the front of Dina’s chest and took a deep breath. “You’re going to be okay.” Yank. “It’s okay.” Another scream. “I love you. It’s okay. It’s okay.”_

_Ellie dropped the arrow and forced Dina to cover one half of the wound with her own hand._ _That was when Tommy’s shouts and cries of pain reached their ears._

_"Ellie! Ellie!"_

_“Go,” Dina rasped. “Help him.” She lightly shoved Ellie away._

_"Not without you." Ellie got her good arm under Dina, and together, they went back toward lobby._

_Dina wiped at her face along the way, trying to clear the stready trickle of blood from her forehead and keep it out of her eyes. When her vision was clear, her gaze went to Jesse’s body and the ever-growing pool of blood around his head._

_Ellie felt Dina pull away and let go. She stumbled over to Tommy, who was sitting up against the counter. She had to wrap his head with bits of an old theater costume, and then she had to tie a belt around his leg and pull out another arrow. It was awful, bloody work, and all Tommy wanted to know was what happened to Abby._

_“Did you get her? Did you kill that bitch?”_

_Ellie wrapped more cloth around Tommy’s leg. It was almost impossible with one arm, but she managed. “I- I didn’t. She got away.”_

_“Fuck!” Tommy yelled. “Fuck that fucking bitch! I’m going to_ fucking _kill her!”_

_“Tommy.” Ellie tried to get through to him, but she had to shout over his rage. “Tommy!”_

_When he calmed, she got him to sit up against the counter and keep pressure on his face. With Tommy stabilized, Ellie looked back at Dina. The woman had moved, holding a silent vigil as she sat next to Jesse._

_Tears had washed straight lines down Dina’s freckled face, and they broke Ellie’s heart. No matter the relationship status, since Ellie had moved to Jackson – it had always been the three of them._

_How could Abby have done this again? Rocked her world, almost destroyed it… and got away. Ellie snarled and made a weak fist with the arm clutched to her chest. She would make Abby pay for this – for all of it._

* * *

Turning her back on the motel, Ellie started sketching the donkey. She kept herself alert, listening for the sounds of a fight as her pencil moved across the page. She heard Santa rip up plants, buzzing insects, and bird calls instead.

When the motel door opened again, Lev poked his head outside. “Ellie, it’s safe to come in.”

Ellie added a cotton ball onto the Christmas hat she drew on Santa before putting her journal away. Grabbing Santa’s halter, she led the animal toward the lobby. There was a bit of a commotion at the entrance, and Ellie found herself holding open the door for Abby who was dragging out an infected corpse.

Abby nodded to Ellie on her way outside, and Ellie almost found herself nodding back. She steeled herself and looked away. No amount of cooperation would make them friends, ever.

A little time passed. The three of them set out their bedrolls and made the lobby the place they’d rest for the night. They each had their own chores. Lev worked on making more arrows with a collection of sticks, feathers, and his knife. Abby sewed up holes in a spare set of clothes, while Ellie continued sketching Santa – in both of his incarnations. It was strange to draw something so light as Christmas decorations while in the presence of her worst enemy. If only she could strangle Abby with the string of Christmas lights she was sketching.

Ellie was in the middle of illustrating a pine tree, dragging lead across the page in the jagged motion of needles, when she glanced up and saw the white-pink stems of fungus growing from the head of a Stalker. It crawled out of the darkness on all fours – right behind Abby.

“Abby!” Ellie dropped her journal and ran forward. The Stalker lunged at the same time, grabbing Abby and coming down to bite her. Somehow, Ellie got there first – jamming her arm between the meat of Abby’s shoulder and two rows of teeth. Ellie grunted as the creature bit down.

With her other hand, Ellie reached up and tried to peel the Stalker off her arm. There was nothing sturdy to grab onto. Her hand collided with the moldy stocks, snapping them into pieces, before she sank her fingers into an eye socket and yanked. The Stalker released her arm and yelled as she pierced one of its eyes. Ellie’s other hand launched forward, ramming a pencil into its deformed ear socket – almost all the way to the eraser. The Stalker convulsed before it fell onto the ground.

Just as Abby freed her pistol, Ellie clasped her hand over the fresh bite. Blood slipped past her fingers and she whined.

“Great. Now, I need a new fucking pencil.”

Abby and Lev shared a look before Abby gave an order. “Stay here. I’m going to clear this place, again.”

Ellie walked over to her bag and started going through it for a bandage. “Try and do a better job this time.”

Abby deserved that barb and took it in stride. Gun at the ready, she left the lobby once more.

As soon as she was gone, Lev went to help Ellie care for her wound. Ellie wanted to refuse, but it was tough to give yourself first aide with only one arm – she knew that from experience.

After cleaning the torn skin with alcohol, Lev wrapped Ellie’s forearm in silence. It was just as he tied the knot, that he finally spoke.

“You saved her.”

Ellie snorted and snatched back her arm. “No. No, I didn’t. I- I…” She turned away from Lev, refusing to look at him. “I didn’t.”

“You took the bite,” he argued gently.

Ellie placed her hand over the bandage as her lips quivered. She _had_ done what Lev said. It wasn’t her conscious intention, but it still happened. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No,” Lev agreed. “You weren’t thinking.” Without alerting Ellie, Abby stepped up beside Lev. She had gone through the whole building but found nothing else. Lev smiled at her before he kept talking to Ellie. “You let your instinct guide you, and you saved a life – without regards to your own.”

Ellie gave a harsh laugh. “I knew I’d survive. I’m immune, after all.”

“Still-”

Ellie turned on her heel, ready to stop Lev from saying more. She couldn’t hear about how she saved Abby, not one more time. But she froze when she saw Abby standing there. Their eyes met and held for the longest second.

“Thank you,” Abby said.

Ellie showed her teeth and snarled at the gratitude. “Shut up.” Without thinking, Ellie strolled to the front door and pushed it open. She walked away without her bag and without her rifle. It was dark; she couldn’t go far, but she had to get the fuck out of there.

The night air hit her cheeks, freezing the trails of tears Ellie didn’t know she had until she was outside. She half-tripped over something in the road. In a fit, she reached down and grabbed the brick that tried to cripple her. With one fluid motion, she launched it into the darkness. It collided with an old car, bouncing off a windshield and leaving behind spider-web cracks in the glass.

_Abby would’ve died,_ she realized. _She would’ve been fucking dead in a day if I’d just done nothing. All I had to do was nothing._ Ellie fell to her knees in the middle of the street. _Nothing._ Salty tears tracked down her skin, falling off her nose and chin. She had failed Tommy, Jesse, and Joel, over and over. Maybe the best thing she could do now was die. Maybe her heart would hurt a little less if she did.

When Ellie finally went back into the motel, her journal was face down on the floor – just as she left it. Beside it was a new pencil, longer than the one she had stabbed into the Stalker’s head and already whittled to a point. Abby and Lev were tucked into their sleeping bags. If they were awake, they pretended not to be as Ellie settled down for the evening. More than anything, Ellie wanted to grab her things and walk away, but she couldn’t. She owed a debt to ghosts that didn’t need sleep like she did.


	7. carving my heart (of stone)

Over the course of the next few days, the landscape evolved. Utah’s rugged, orange terrain grew ever greener. It took hours for the sun to fight off the night’s chill, and Santa was harder to keep on task – as every fern and soft bed of clover excited him more than the last.

The first morning that Ellie a saw familiar mountain range, a pit formed in her stomach. She was almost home; if she still had a home to go back to. Knowing there was a fight at the end of this road, she took it easy on her body. There was no need to hunt, or gather wood for fires, or any of that if Lev and Abby did it for her. She had to focus on healing.

She distanced herself from the group, too. Physically, she was always fifteen feet behind or more as they traveled. Mentally, she was much further. She’d be killing Abby soon; probably Lev, too. Those homicidal thoughts made her regret ever being sociable with the boy. He didn’t deserve the trauma he was about to go through, but that was Abby’s fault. Abby brought Lev into this, like Ellie brought Jesse and Dina.

In the late afternoon, they passed their first sign that welcomed them into Wyoming. Ellie stood in the middle of the highway and stared at it. On a field of rusted blue metal was a rider and a wild horse underneath. They were so close to Jackson; too close.

“When are we doing this?”

Abby stopped in her tracks. Lev halted a few steps later, Santa nearly walking into him. The donkey threw his head and snorted at the surprise interruption.

Abby glanced over her shoulder and gave a flippant answer. “Not yet. You’re not healed.”

“I’m not going to be before we get to Jackson. You know that.”

Abby shifted her weight from one foot to the other before she turned around. “Why do you need one of us to die so badly?”

“Why do you need to run away?”

“Tomorrow,” Abby decided. Lev went to Abby’s side, tugging on her sleeve. Abby gently, but firmly, pushed him away. “Not now, Lev.”

“You guys don’t have to do this.”

“Quiet, Lev. You’re not going to change her mind.”

Ellie shook her head. “No, you’re not. Tomorrow,” she agreed. “At dawn.”

* * *

At sundown, the group made camp on the base of a mountain. It was tough to find ground that didn’t slope, and harder to find a rock-free spot to put their bedrolls. Abby was busy kicking shale out of the way when she noticed that Ellie wasn’t setting out a blanket.

“You’re not sleeping?”

Ellie sat against a birch tree trunk. Her shoulders scraped away peeling bark as she leaned back. “Nope. I’m not about to let you slip off into the night.”

Abby went for her pack and pulled out her sleeping bag. The polyester fabric had a new hole in it, so when she shook it out to its full size – it threw lumps of stuffing into the air. “Great,” she muttered to herself. Between the rocks, the lack of cushion, and the murderous night owl keeping watch – it was going to be difficult to find rest.

It was chilly, but after a few quiet words from Abby, Lev didn’t bother with a fire. There was nothing to cook so he passed out a handful of blackberries to everyone. Ellie ate them one at a time, more to keep herself busy and awake, than to enjoy their sweet – sometimes tart – flavor. By the time her palm was empty, and the fingers on her other hand were stained purple, Abby and Lev were tucked into their sleeping bags.

It was a long, quiet night. Long like the night they rode back to Jackson with Joel’s corpse.

_“You holding on?” Dina asked softly._

_Ellie couldn’t speak, only nod, before Dina clicked her tongue at Shimmer. As the horse stepped forward, Ellie’s attention was on the steed tied to their own. She squeezed Dina’s middle, unable to tear her gaze away from the large bundle laid over the saddle behind them. They’d wrapped Joel in some curtains from the chalet, but blood seeped out, running down the horse’s belly and freezing to a thick coat of roan-colored fur._

He’s dead, _Ellie told herself._ He’s dead.

_Joel and Tommy’s mounts were gone – taken by the group of killers. Tommy was atop Jesse’s horse, with Jesse leading it from the ground through a foot of snow. They planned to meet up with another patrol and spread the load between more horses, so they could get back to Jackson faster._

_But there was nothing quick about the trip. The way was dark. Though the blizzard was done, the clouds stayed behind, hiding the moon and the stars. Every so often, when Jesse’s flashlight swept over Joel’s body, Ellie reminded herself again._

He’s dead. Joel’s dead.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” Abby whispered. She brought up the butt of her pistol, smacking it into the side of Ellie’s head. As the brunette fell onto the ground, Abby sighed. “But I can’t kill you, and I can’t let you kill me.”

Abby was growing used the sight of seeing Ellie unconscious. Like a sleeping bear, it was almost easy to forget that Ellie had claws and sharp teeth that could rip her to shreds. It was a stroke of luck that Ellie had drifted off before dawn. Ellie wasn’t the only one who didn’t plan on sleeping, but Abby wasn’t going to run. She had to strike first.

Just as Abby’s heartrate settled down and her posture relaxed, a branch snapped. She turned her head, and a rifle connected with her temple.

The ground flew at her, solid earth connecting with her cheek before she knew what was happening. Strange boots came into view, crushing the blades of icy grass in front of her. Abby heard shouting as she fought the dizzying pain in her head. There was another blow – then darkness. Only darkness.

* * *

Ellie woke to the feel of scratchy wool beneath her fingertips. Her hand twitched, grabbing at the blanket pulled over her body. Her side ached; her head hurt worse. When she opened her eyes, she didn’t recognize her surroundings.

An overcast sky cast soft light into a bedroom. Ellie blinked a few times before the splotchy pattern on the wallpaper focused into rows of teal flowers between brown stripes. It was God-ugly, but there was a striking sense of familiarity here. On the nightstand, next to an empty drinking glass, was a small wooden horse. It was rough; tiny fibers stuck out of its uneven legs. The shape of its face looked more like a cow than a steed, but it was Joel’s first attempt at whittling. Ellie would’ve recognized it anywhere.

_“Well?” Joel’s gruff voice drew Ellie away from trying to find the right chord. She set the guitar down and walked across the porch. “How’d I do, kiddo?”_

_Ellie kicked a pile of off-white shavings to the side before reaching out and taking the small figurine. It was hard not to make a face, and she totally failed. “Well… it’s got… four- yep, four legs. And um… is it a cow?” Joel dropped his head and folded his knife closed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s obviously a giraffe.”_

_Joel gave a quiet laugh before snatching the carving back. “Get back to practicing,” he chastised. “Maybe by the end of the night, you’ll stop attracting every cat and coyote within a hundred miles.”_

_Ellie made a ‘psh’ sound with her lips before she waved Joel off. “You’re bleeding, by the way.”_

_Joel looked down at his left hand, a drop of blood sat on the tip of his thumb before he wiped it away on his jeans. “Must’ve cut myself one of the many, many times you played the wrong note.”_

_“Whatever, Old Man. You just can’t handle these mad skills.” Without the guitar, Ellie closed her eyes and strummed into the air while she made the sounds of a wicked electric guitar solo from one of her favorite songs by The Sick Habit. It was a killer performance, totally exaggerated and without a care in the world about how awful it was. The crowd went wild in Ellie’s mind._

_Joel stood from his rocking chair and gave the lightest, slowest of round of applause. “Say something to your adoring fans, Ellie.”_

_Ellie opened her eyes – and oh, the horror. Jesse and Dina were in the street, hand in hand, snickering to themselves._

_“Yeah, Ellie!” Dina cheered._

_Jesse held his fist in the air. “Encore!”_

_Red blossomed across Ellie’s freckled face. Sure, those were her friends, and she’d done plenty of stupid stuff in front of them before. But she hadn’t meant to be_ this _embarrassing._

_“Oh, God,” she mumbled._

_Dina let go of her boyfriend and jogged up the sidewalk toward Joel’s house. “Come on, Ellie. We’re going to get dinner at the Tipsy Bison. You wanna come with?”_

_“I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” Ellie squeaked out._

_“Nah,” Dina reassured. “Cat’s coming, too.”_

_Ellie’s heart fluttered. She glanced at Joel, wondering if her interest was a little too obvious but hoping for permission anyway._

_“Get going,” Joel answered the unasked question. “And bring me back something, will ya?”_

_A grin broke across Ellie’s face. “You got it.” She got one foot off the porch before she spun around and ran back to Joel. She patted him on the back and said something only he could’ve heard. “It’s a horse, right?’_

_Joel crossed his arms. “Get outta here.”_

A shaky hand reached out for the figurine. It wasn’t a horse. It _was_ a giraffe. That was so obvious now with its long legs and longer neck. Ellie cradled it to her chest as the peeling wallpaper went blurry again from tears in her eyes. She was in Jackson.

At the sound of footsteps, Ellie set the carving back down. She sat up just in time for Maria to walk into the room.

“Hey, Ellie.”

“Hey,” she greeted back. “What… What happened?”

“You’re home. Hush now,” Maria instructed softly. “I’ll get the doctor. You stay here.”

Ellie leaned back against the pillow as Maria walked away. _Home,_ she thought to herself. Home wasn’t a place, she decided. It was playing guitar on Joel’s porch late into the night; it was picking weeds in the garden while Dina clipped tiny socks to a clothesline. One home was taken from her, and she abandoned the other.

The doctor came in a matter of minutes. Ellie underwent a basic exam, squinting when a light was shined in eyes and grimacing when rough fingers prodded her abdomen. Maria stood vigilant over Ellie’s care and didn’t seem to relax until the doctor cleared Ellie for light activity but with plenty of rest.

As soon as the doctor left, Ellie stood from the bed. “What happened to the people I was with?”

Maria was stone-faced. “Come with me.”

Joel used to complain that Maria cleaned house on poker night. It was no wonder. Ellie couldn’t glean anything from the leader of Jackson as they walked through town. Everyone who saw Ellie gave her a nod or a wave. Ellie tried to be polite, but she mostly nodded – finding herself as mute as Joel on his bad days. There were things more important than empty platitudes, like finding out what happened to Abby and Lev, and if Dina and JJ were okay in the months they were apart.

Before Ellie knew it, Maria had led them to the dam that powered Jackson. Ellie had scoured the face of every soul on the way, but she didn’t find Dina during their walk. Instead, she was suddenly standing in front of a chain link fence inside the concrete building. Maria was holding open a tall gate, and as soon as Ellie saw Tommy, she walked in like a horse led to its home pasture.

“Ellie!” Tommy perked up. He stood from a cot laid out on the ground, slow to his feet but happy to see the girl nonetheless. Squeezing Ellie into a hug, Tommy smiled.

She got one look at his gnarled face, skin white and wrinkled from the gunshot that took his eye, before she saw Abby through the fence. Ellie left her eyes wide open. She barely hugged Tommy back as the reality of the situation hit her. Abby and Lev were alive. They were in some kind of holding area inside the dam, nestled in with old machine parts that were once so valuable they had to be locked up. Ellie and Tommy were in one such compartment, Abby and Lev were in another right beside them.

And Maria had just closed the fence, snapping a padlock closed.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ellie asked.

As Tommy let go, he placed his hands on Ellie’s shoulders. “Scouts found you just outside the city before Abby could kill you-”

“That’s _not_ what happened,” Abby interjected.

Ellie broke away from Tommy and rubbed her forehead. Her skull pounded from the hit she took the night before, or the stress, or both – she wasn’t sure.

Before Tommy and Abby could get into it, Maria spoke up. “It’s time for a little thing called group therapy,” she explained as she pocketed her keys. “Where y'all go around and talk out your problems. They did it in the old days. It worked back then, and it's gonna work now. Or so help me God, you'll all stay locked in here until the day you die or until I get sick of wasting rations on you. Now, talk.”

There was silence in the dam. Or rather, it was as silent as it could be with the sound rushing water muffled by inches of concrete. No one said a word.

Maria shifted on her feet, arms folded over her chest. “Come on, y'all. Talk.”

Ellie went to the gate, wrapping her fingers around the diamond-shaped fence. “Dina?” she whispered.

“Dina and JJ are fine. They moved back here after you left.”

Ellie sighed, and a weight lifted from tired shoulders. She released her death-grip on the twisted metal and turned to face Tommy as he spoke.

“We saved your life on that ridge.” He jabbed a finger at Abby, limping toward the barrier they shared.

Abby only scoffed. “You wanna keep score, Old Man? You and Ellie killed how many Wolves? I only killed Joel.”

Ellie huffed. “And Jesse.” The horses were off to the races, the competition begun…

Abby got up, stalking toward the fence. There was a fresh cut on her face, bright red but not seeping blood. “That can change,” she threatened. “Let us out of here.”

Tommy kept gesturing at Abby. “Kill her, Maria. Just let us kill her! It’s what she deserves!”

Maria shook her head and turned toward the nearest exit. “Work it out or you’ll die a bitter, lonely, old man, Tommy.”

“Damn it, Maria,” Tommy muttered. “Don’t go. Open the gate… Maria… Maria!” He tried to reason with the blonde, but there was nothing he could say to make her to stop from walking away and closing the door behind herself. The captives were alone, imprisoned with humming machines and anger that ate three – out of four of them – alive.


	8. slowly learning (that life is okay)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I was more confident in this chapter, but writing is hard, yo.
> 
> I know there's a lot of mixed feelings with this game, but please keep in mind that this is just my interpretation and what I'm doing to cope with it. If you don't see things the same way, that's fine. Just don't direct your anger at me. I'm fragile af.
> 
> And as a sidenote, don't go after any actors, etc. I'd like to think that if you've read this far, you're not the type of person who would do stuff like that. But the kind of shit that Laura Bailey and others got was not cool.

“Shit,” Tommy cursed under his breath. He went to one of the cots and sat back down to rest his leg.

Ellie gave him one look before she went to the fence and shook the gate with her hands. It was no use. The padlock held tight. _Fuck._ Resigned, Ellie sat down beside Tommy. The bed – if it could be called that – was just a thin mattress placed on top of a large, red toolbox. There was another mattress in the corner, along with some bottles of water, and an empty bucket. Lev and Abby had the same in their own tiny prison. No one else was trying to escape. They must have already tried and failed, Ellie imagined.

“I- I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“Don’t you apologize, Ellie.” The man placed an arm around Ellie’s slender shoulders. “I know you did everything you could.”

Ellie’s head lowered. Had she? Had she done _everything_ she could’ve? Considering Abby was still alive – that probably wasn’t true.

An hour passed, then another. The sun eventually broke through the clouds as it set on another autumn day in Jackson. Orange light crept into the old power plant as dinner was brought in. Despite his sweet-talking, Tommy couldn’t get the deliveryman to do a damn thing for them. Their guard knew the consequences for breaking Maria’s orders.

Still, that didn’t stop Ellie from interacting with him. “Hey. John? It’s John, right?”

The guard slipped a tray under the fence, pushing it toward Abby and Lev before he looked over at Ellie. “Yep, that’s me. I’m not letting you out, so don’t ask.”

“That’s- That’s not what I was gonna ask. You know Dina?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

“Does she know… Does she know I’m here?” The man shrugged, and Ellie felt her muscles tense. She tried not to bristle as she continued. “Can you tell- ask her to come here?” Telling Dina to do something she might not want to meant Dina would do the exact opposite.

“Sorry. I can’t help you.”

As John walked away, Ellie rushed the fence. “Hey! Hey, come on! Please!” The main door out opened and shut. John left without another word as the hot food on Ellie and Tommy’s tray began to cool. “Well, fuck you then.”

Tommy limped over to the food and grabbed his bowl of brothy lamb and vegetables. “I’m sure she knows,” he told Ellie. “It was a pretty big commotion when you were brought into town.”

From across the way, Abby’s harsh tone interrupted the conversation. “They carried you, like some fallen fucking saint. Lev and I were dragged in by the rope around our wrists.”

_“Open the gate!”_

_A harsh spotlight was turned on the scouting party. Abby took the moment’s pause, and the slack in the rope, to walk toward Lev. None of the riders were paying them any mind. They were too busy lifting Ellie’s unconscious body from the back of a horse._

_“You okay, kid?”_

_The boy nodded, but Abby knew he wasn’t being honest. After getting jumped at their campsite, the trek down the mountain had been a tough one. Their hands were bound together by a long length of rope, each tied to the horn of a different saddle._

_As the fence opened, the horse pulling Abby lunged forward. Abby didn’t have time to brace. Her elbows hit the ground first, and the rest of the ride into Jackson was marked by grass stains on her jacket and new bruises on her skin. People were hollering at them. Abby caught bits and pieces as she fought to get up._

_“-found Ellie!”_

_“-attacked-”_

_“It’s her. That’s the woman Tommy was after!”_

_“Tommy! Get Tommy!”_

_As the horse came to a stop, Abby crawled to her hands and feet. Her first priority – her only priority – was getting Lev out of this, so she looked around as she stood. Lev was behind her, jogging past where his horse stopped and trying to get to Abby’s side. Barely a foot apart, his rope pulled tight, and he could get no closer._

_Something hard suddenly smacked into the back of Abby’s head. A dancing explosion of color obscured her vision and she swayed. Was this it? Was this the end?_

_“Abby!” Lev cried._

_There was a broken bottle at Abby’s feet. As her eyes focused on it, she leaned down and picked up a shard of brown glass. She wasn’t giving up tonight. People gathered around, coming out of their houses to see what all the fuss was about. They were just angry shapes to Abby, vengeful shadows, and she would kill them all to get Lev out alive._

_She used the glass to cut the rope holding her wrists. As the glass became wet and harder to hold onto, Abby kept slicing. There was blood on the rope now, on her hands, but she kept working at it until her arms suddenly jerked apart. She was free. And she needed a weapon, a real one._

_The rider that had yanked her all the way down the mountain was still on horseback. There was a pistol on his hip and a rifle that gleamed from the back of his saddle. Abby grinned._

_“We need the doc here! Now!”_

_“Hey! Hey, she’s loose! Get her!”_

_A rock flew at Abby, hitting her in the ribs. It should’ve hurt, but it didn’t. There was no pain, only adrenaline and rage as another stone went flying and hit Lev in the chin. Abby bolted for the guns when a shot rang out. The bullet whizzed past her and struck a building down the way. Abby used all of her weight to dismount the rider. As he tumbled to the ground, the horse half-bucked. Abby tried to get the rifle from its holster when more shots cracked through the night air. The horse whinnied and ran, leaving Abby without a gun._

_As Abby stepped toward the unhorsed man, a stern, female voice echoed through the streets of Jackson, followed by a shotgun blast into the air._

_“Enough!”_ BOOM.

_Abby stared at the man on the ground. He looked terrified. She was about to dive at him when she heard the familiar cycling sound of a pump action shotgun right behind her._

_“That’s quite enough! From all of you! Put your guns away. Sam, you drop that rock. Right now. And_ you _, hands up.”_

_The gun poked into Abby’s back. Slowly, she lifted her arms._

_“Turn around,” the woman said._

_Panting, blood dripping down one hand, Abby did as she was told. The woman in front of her was older, hair blonde._

_“Are you her? You’re the one who killed Joel?”_

_Abby snarled. Maybe this was the end after all, but how could she get Lev out of this? “Yeah,” she answered. Her voice went softer. “I killed him. Let the kid go. He was just traveling with me. He wasn’t- He doesn’t have anything to do with Joel-”_

_As Abby tried to explain, she was interrupted by a man who hobbled into the street behind the woman. “Get outta the way, Maria. She’s mine.” Tommy lifted a long-barreled revolver, but he struggled to keep it steady as he pointed it at his quarry. Between his one cloudy eye and his shaky aim, Maria definitely should’ve moved. She didn’t._

_“We’re not doing it this way, Tommy.”_

_“Just get out of the way!”_

_Maria ignored the cross, old man. “John, Caleb, Sarah – tie her up again and get them both to the dam. Lock ‘em up. We’ll deal with them tomorrow.”_

_Abby dropped her hands. “Wait,” she tried to argue. She was grabbed again, fingers digging into her arms and pulling them back. “Wait! Just let him go!” A boot collided with the back of her legs as she was kicked onto her knees. Abby’s pleas for mercy were as ignored as Tommy’s cries for blood._

Ellie glanced at the pair she once traveled with. She got a better look at them. The fresh cut on Abby’s eyebrow wasn’t the only visible wound. Their skin was battered and bruised. A white piece of cloth was wrapped around Lev’s bicep and the left corner of his jaw was swollen. Ellie suddenly felt the pinch of regret under her laboring ribs. Physical wounds aside, this lifetime was doing something to her soul. Her breath was staggered, and her wants were confusing.

“Pretty sure we would be dead,” Abby continued, “if not for Maria.”

Tommy lifted his chin, unwilling to give an inch. “She’s wrong to keep you alive.”

Abby smiled a wicked grin. “Agreed.”

“Stop!” Ellie shouted. “Just stop! Shut up!” She went to her cot on the floor and sank into it, dropping her aching head into her hands. Something had to give; something had to break. And it was probably going to be Ellie.

At dusk, everyone was let out of their cage – one at a time – under armed guard. They got to use the facilities and do a lap inside the power plant. Ellie declined the walk, but Abby didn’t. Abby jogged through the building, making her guards sweat as they ran with their weapons. Panting, John opened the padlock as another man shoved Abby forward. As soon as the gate was closed again, Abby was on the ground doing pushups.

* * *

Maria came by the next day. She brought breakfast – homemade bread and jam – and it was obvious that no progress had been made. While trying to think of how to bridge the gap, Lev approached the fence.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Is our donkey okay?”

Maria looked over the young boy before nodding. “Your animal is fine. He’s in the pasture with some of our horses. He’s eating, as far as I can tell, but he’s a damn noisy thing.”

Lev lightened up, a smile overcoming his sullen features. “That’s our Santa. Will you take care of him if anything happens to us?”

Maria nodded. “He’ll have a place a here as long as there’s extra, or until he starts pulling his own weight.”

“He can work,” Lev assured her.

“Mm, he hasn’t so far.”

Abby laughed between bites of slathered toast. “No, he won’t do anything without Lev. You let Lev out of here. Just let them go.”

Lev left the fence and went to Abby’s side. “No. I’m not leaving without you, Abby.”

Maria looked at Tommy and Ellie expectantly. “I’ll let you both go, and the donkey, as long as the four of you agree not to hunt each other anymore.”

Ellie scooped another helping of strawberry jam onto her piece of bread and said nothing as she spread it with a spoon. Tommy curled his lips and shook his head at the woman he once loved.

“I can’t believe you, Maria. You’re letting Joel’s killer live and breathe in the same place he’s buried. It ain’t right.”

Maria set her hands in her pockets and addressed Ellie. “The doctor doesn’t know how you survived that wound to your abdomen. It should’ve killed you, Ellie. I expect it would’ve, but someone kept you alive.”

Tommy scoffed and placed a hand on his aching knee. “So, she’s tough to kill,” he tried to reason. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Maria clicked her tongue at the stubborn, _stubborn_ fool. He wasn’t getting it. “I find it mighty strange that Abby came all this way, of her own free will – knowing what awaited her if she stepped one foot into Jackson.”

Tommy rubbed his leg, but it wasn’t the pain that bothered him. “They were Ellie’s prisoners. She was bringing ‘em here to face justice. They escaped and attacked her.”

Maria’s hard expression gave way to one of sadness. Tommy was spinning webs so thick he’d never be free. The man she fell in love with – who helped her turn Jackson into paradise when there was literal hell on earth – was never coming back from that patrol he went on almost a year ago. It was too much to take, so she left.

Abby perked up from her breakfast, expecting Ellie to fill the silence with lies that Tommy could swallow. Instead, Ellie got up and walked her piece of toast to the fence. She folded it and passed it off to Lev.

“You guys share this,” Ellie said quietly.

“Ellie,” Tommy questioned. “What are you doing?”

In face of the truth, Ellie turned and looked at Tommy. “Maria was right. I’d be dead if not for them. I never would’ve made it back to Jackson on my own.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Tommy barked. “She still killed Joel when we saved her. She tortured him.”

“I know… I _know_ she did.” Ellie slammed her eyes shut, willing away the gruesome images of Joel’s death.

After a moment of silence, Abby set her breakfast aside and approached the fence that separated the two groups. “Do you even know why?”

 _Of course,_ Ellie thought. “Because Joel killed some Fireflies and stopped the cure from being made.”

Abby’s forehead wrinkled in disbelief and she let out a weak laugh. “He slaughtered almost an entire division.” She curled her hands around the metal barrier, squeezing the life from it as she wrestled with her growing temper. “But I don’t give a fuck about the cure. I haven’t since the day my dad was murdered.” Abby swallowed, forcing down the sick feeling of anguish, of grief unsatisfied. “Doctor Jerry Anderson.”

Ellie’s mind flashed back to the time on the beach in Santa Barbra. _My father was the doctor, not me._ She remembered the tape that she played over and over outside of Saint Mary’s Hospital. _The only person who could develop a vaccine is dead._

Tears pricked the corner of Abby’s eyes. “He thought the world could be a better place. He wanted to save humanity, and Joel killed him to save you.” Abby reeled back and spit at Ellie’s feet.

As Abby retreated, Ellie’s rage seeped into her veins, lighting them up like lava that oozed from an erupting heart. “You think you’re the only one who hates him for what he did that day? My immunity was supposed to _matter_.” Ellie began to pace the cell. “And now I'm nothing, less than nothing. For years, I didn't even know what he'd done. I woke up from the anesthesia, and he said that the Fireflies didn't need me – that there were others like me. Few years later… there was still no cure. I asked questions about the Fireflies that no one would answer, so I left. I went back… I found out what happened, and I _hated_ him for it.”

Ellie curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her skin. Something had to stop this pain. Vengeance wasn’t doing it; maybe talking would.

“There's no cure... because he cared about _me_ more than he cared about the whole world. Because he couldn't let go. And then you... you took him from me before I could forgive him for that. I wanted to- I was starting to-”

As Ellie fell silent, Abby reached up and wiped at the tears on her own cheeks. “My father didn't want you to die either,” she admitted. “But it was for the greater good. I told him that if I were in your shoes, I'd want him to do the surgery even if it killed me. But I think… if you asked me to put Lev in that operating room now… I don't think I'd say yes.”

There was a heavy pause. Neither Tommy nor Lev got up from their respective places of rest. The more that came to light; the less they had to add.

Once more, Abby approached Ellie and the fence that kept them apart. “What we all did... I think it proves that humanity doesn't deserve a cure. If the infected don't kill us, we just kill each other.”

Ellie looked into Abby’s brown eyes, and for once, didn’t find herself wanting to choke the life out of them. “If Lev gets bit one day, you'll think differently,” she pointed out.

“Maybe, but it doesn't matter. The only person who could've made the cure is gone.”

“But you guys are going back to join the Fireflies, aren't you?”

Abby huffed and rolled her eyes. “If we can find them. If we don't die here.”

Ellie focused on the sound of rushing water. Her eyes fell shut as she wondered if it was possible to forgive Joel after he died. When her eyes opened again, she realized that she didn’t have to if there was a way to fix his mistake. What if all the horror and bloodshed could be corrected with just one act?

“You won't. This is over – on one condition.”

Abby tilted her head. “What condition?”

“If they ever find someone who can make a cure, you'll get word to me.”

“Are you serious?”

Ellie shrugged. Nothing could change the past, but maybe Abby’s father could still have his last hope. “Whether humanity deserves it or not, I'll sleep better knowing there's a chance.”

“You'd go against Joel's wishes like that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm just like him. I can't let go.”

Abby maneuvered her hand through the fence, the diamond shape fitting to her forearm and keeping her from moving any closer. “ _If_ that happens, I'll take you there myself.”

Ellie reached out and shook the offered hand. There was total silence until they let go, and Ellie turned toward Tommy. “We wanted her to suffer, and she has. It's done.”

The old man’s head fell. He didn’t seem ready to bury this hatchet as he got to his feet and limped forward. Ellie expected a struggle to pry Tommy away from the fence, but he didn’t get that far. He pulled Ellie into another tight hug.

“Aye,” he rasped. “If that’s what you want, Ellie… It’s done.”


	9. future days (days of you and me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple songs mentioned in this last chapter. The first is "Boats and Birds" by Gregory and the Hawk. And the other is "Future Days" as sung by Joel (Troy Baker) :'( 
> 
> If you've never heard the first one, maybe give it a listen at the right time? I like to think that Ellie/Ashley would kill it.

The prisoners had to wait until a guard came through with lunch before they had the opportunity to convince Maria that they were changed people. When Maria strode into the plant, the heels of her cowboy boots clicked loudly.

“John tells me that you lot have somethin’ to say?”

Ellie glanced around, and when no one else came forth with the truth – she did. “We came to an agreement. No more fighting, from any of us.”

Maria’s stern gaze flashed to the man she used to share her life with. “Is that true, Tommy?”

“Yes, ma’am. You can let them go.”

“Okay, and you two?” Maria asked of the strangers.

Lev nodded. “We promise not to harm Ellie, or anyone else from Jackson in the name of vengeance.”

Maria took a deep breath before she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. “Alright. You two are free to leave. We’ll escort you to your things. Take that _damn_ donkey and be on your way.” She let Tommy and Ellie out first. Tommy didn’t spare anyone a last look, only limped out away from the dam.

Ellie accompanied Maria, Abby, and Lev to the barn. A stablehand brought Abby and Lev their bags, another came in from the pasture with an empty lead rope and exasperated look.

“It won’t come, Maria. That stubborn ass just-” The boy’s whining was cut off by a loud bray. A few horses whinnied in response as Lev hid a laugh with one hand.

“May I?” Lev asked.

Maria waved the kid forward, and the stablehand passed off the rope. Abby followed her charge, and Ellie found herself walking behind Abby without telling her feet to do so. As the three of them of stepped into the pasture, Santa brayed again. The stocky animal ran across the field, ears forward and tail whipping with excitement.

Lev nearly fell when the soft muzzle was thrust into his chest. Santa huffed and took in the boy’s scent. Shimmer used to do the same thing – checking on her rider. As Lev attached the lead to Santa’s halter, Abby faced Ellie.

“No offense, but this time I _really_ hope I never see you again.”

Ellie lightly ground her teeth and gave a single nod. As much as Ellie hated the sight of Abby, she knew she’d see Abby again in her nightmares, if nowhere else. “Take care of Lev. He’s a good kid.”

Abby sighed before a donkey snout pushed its way into her abdomen, knocking her a step back. “Oof. Nice to see you, too, Santa. Let’s get out of here.”

Lev reached for the bow hanging off his bag. “Here,” he said to Ellie. He held out the weapon and a quiver of arrows.

“Keep it,” Ellie offered quietly. “I’ll get another one.”

Lev smiled before putting the weapon away. “May the Mother watch over you.”

Ellie waited for the trio to get a few yards ahead of her before she followed them out of the pasture. Maria rejoined Ellie there, escorting the group to the east-most gate.

Without admitting to it, Maria sent Abby and Lev off with more in their bags than they had before. A few less rations wouldn’t hurt the bustling, thriving settlement of Jackson. She considered it restitution for the way her scouts treated Abby and Lev upon their discovery. Truth be told, she considered having Abby executed, but then there was the matter of the boy. What would they have done with him? Would they have created another vengeful soul, or would they have had to kill him, too? Maria didn’t want that blood on her hands. It wouldn’t leak into the soil and bring Joel back to life, and it wouldn’t heal Tommy or ease Ellie’s guilt. What was done, was done.

As Abby, Lev, and their donkey were let out of Jackson, Maria patted Ellie’s shoulder and left her standing there with an invination. “You can come back to my house tonight. Your old place is occupied, but we can figure out something else for you tomorrow.”

“Or she could stay with me.”

Ellie jerked her head away from the closing gate. Dina stood across the street with one hand on a hip, head leaned to one side. Her dark hair was longer and pulled into a braid that hung off her shoulder. She looked goddamn beautiful.

Maria smirked. “That’s an option, too.” She squeezed Ellie’s shoulder, and left the young women to it.

Ellie began to cross the street, and Dina waited for her.

“Obviously,” Dina drawled, “you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the rest of your life… or a year. I haven’t decided if I’m forgiving you.”

A strangled laugh escaped Ellie’s lips before she finished closing the distance. Her hands lifted, almost aching to hold Dina before she dropped them again. She couldn’t make the first move; she lost that right when she closed the farmhouse door all those months ago.

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again.”

“Well, that’s your problem, isn’t it, Ellie? You don’t think.” Dina sighed before she opened her arms and welcomed Ellie into a soft hug. As Dina held onto Ellie, she sniffled and cleared her throat. “You okay? You in one piece?”

Ellie shook her head. “Nah. I’m still in a million pieces, but if I’ve got you, I’ve got the only one I need.”

Dina laughed. “Wow, that was edgy.”

Pulling back, Ellie smiled as she gazed into Dina’s eyes. “It’s a lyric from The Sick Habit.”

“ _Of course_ it is.” As Dina released Ellie from the hug, her fingers slipped down Ellie’s arm but didn’t land into Ellie’s hand. “You let Abby go?”

At the mention of her enemy, Ellie looked out at the reinforced gate. It was closing on Abby and Lev as they left Jackson. “Killing her won’t bring Joel back,” she copped out.

“No, it won’t. I’m proud of you.”

As Dina stared at her, Ellie left her eyes on the horizon. She couldn’t tell Dina about Abby’s promise. Ellie’s last hope was walking out into the wilderness, a machete on her back, a boy and his donkey at her side. Maybe one day Abby would return, and then Ellie could have that conversation with Dina. For now, there were more important things… like seeing how big her Potato was, and charming her way out of the doghouse.

* * *

Miles outside of Jackson, a light breeze swept through an open field. Lev picked the occasional dandelion and held it out for Santa to eat. The donkey’s teeth snapped around the yellow petals and chewed it to slobbery bits.

“Abby? There’s something I need to tell you.”

At the sound of Lev’s gentle profession, Abby stopped walking until Lev and Santa caught up to her. “What’s up?”

“Joel was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Abby asked, staying calm.

“There are others who are immune. The Mother was. That’s why we worshipped her.”

“Holy shit,” Abby stammered. She came to a halt, and Lev did, too. Without the constant bribe of flowers and other treats, Santa turned away from the pair and put his nose into the tall grass to forage. “What? Why didn’t you say anything in front of Ellie?”

Lev’s gaze dropped. He was usually so attentive of Abby, but he was overcome with anxiety. “She seemed to need something to believe in; something that made her life worth value. But that isn’t all… To pass down her immunity, the Mother had as many children as she could and gave them to others to be raised.”

Filled with the rush of discovery, Abby’s jaw hinged open. “You and Yara?”

“Yes. We never tested it, but… it is known. The Mother had many children.”

Abby’s shoulders fell, struck by wonder and confusion. “Jesus Christ.” There were others. All this time, she’d grown up thinking that her dad’s wish for a cure was a pipe dream. They’d been waiting on a one-in-a-million kind of person but there was a whole island full of them. Or at least, there used to be – before the Wolves burned it to the ground.

“For what it’s worth, I’d go through with the surgery, too.”

“Then thank the Mother that Ellie called dibs.” Abby folded her arms across her chest as Lev finally met her eyes. He was smiling a little too widely. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You just thanked the Mother.”

Waving the boy off, Abby strode forward again. They couldn’t stand around all day. “You’re hearing things.”

Lev had to tug Santa away from his meal by hooking his fingers into Santa’s halter and pulling his head up. Santa snorted with tufts of grass sticking out of his mouth. The two of them caught up to Abby and walked another few minutes before Abby spoke again.

“Lev, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was afraid that you’d think I should be bearing children… and that I’d have to be a girl to do that.”

Lev’s fear struck Abby in the heart like a crossbow bolt. “I don’t think that at all!” She turned and stood in front of Lev, placing one hand on his shoulder as she met his eyes. “All I care about is you being alive and happy. Having kids is your choice when you’re old enough to make it, but you should have them if you want them. Not because you think you have to. I’d be saying the same thing to Yara, if she was still with us…” Abby squeezed Lev’s shoulder. “I’ll never ask you to be something you’re not, and I will never, _ever_ take you back to the Seraphites or give you up to the Fireflies even if they think they can make a cure. It’s me and you, Lev.”

Abby watched Lev’s bottom lip quiver before the boy pushed his way forward and wrapped his arms around her torso. Grinning to herself, Abby secured her arms around him. Somehow, she must have said the right thing. Her father used to – when the nights were dark and the horrors were close.

A quiet, “I love you,” was followed by tears dropping onto Abby’s shirt.

She held Lev a little tighter. “I love you, too, kid.”

* * *

“Ellie?”

Dina’s tired voice pulled Ellie away from the window. “Hm?” Ellie muttered from the recliner in the living room. She’d spent the last half hour nursing a splash of whiskey in a mug and watching the sun set on the busy streets of Jackson. From beyond the glass, kids played in the road, kicking piles of dirty, slushy snow from an early spring. Every so often, she’d wonder if this was the day Abby would turn up again. There had to be a chance, right? Just a small one? When Dina didn’t answer right away, Ellie looked back out of the window. There had to be a chance. There _had_ to be.

“Ellie?”

The brunette tore her gaze away again. “I’m here.”

“Are you?”

Ellie set her mug down on the window ledge and nodded at the woman she still loved. “What do you need?”

Dina looked at the floor, picked up one foot and bounced her sock-covered toes on the rug. “Can you get your guitar and play _something_ to get JJ to sleep?”

A slow smile crept across Ellie’s freckled face. In moments like this, Ellie could forget every bad thing that had happened since she left the farm. She hadn’t slept on the couch all winter, and Dina didn’t flip-flop back and forth between forgiveness and a grudge.

“I’m exhausted,” Dina continued. “And if I don’t get some sleep tonight-”

“Yeah,” Ellie interrupted. “No problem.”

“Are you sure?”

As Ellie strode through living room, she picked her instrument up by the neck and patted Dina on the arm as she passed by. “I know just what to play. Why don’t you make yourself some tea or something? By the time it’s done, he’ll be out like a light. Promise.” Ellie didn’t wait around, lifting her guitar to carry it in two hands as she tried to walk away.

She took one step when Dina’s hand settled onto her neck. Dina pulled her close and kissed her cheek. Ellie’s heart fluttered like moths around lamplight right before JJ’s cries grew loud enough to hear. Things were getting better every day, but they would never be right. Jesse should’ve been here to watch his son grow up, and Joel should’ve been around to teach Ellie how to help raise a child.

With Dina’s gratitude, Ellie walked through the hallway and gently pushed open the bedroom door when she got to it. JJ was standing in his crib, a tiny, stuffed Ollie wrapped in his fingers. “Hey, little buddy,” she cooed at him “It’s okay… I’m here.”

The cries quieted as JJ bounced up and down on wobblily legs, excited at the prospect of company. Stepping into the room, hallway light behind her, Ellie placed her fingers to strum the right cord and then began playing a simple melody. She didn’t look down once, focusing only on JJ as she began to sing.

_If you’ll be my star  
I’ll be your sky  
You can hide underneath me  
And come out at night_

_When I turn jet black  
And you show off your light  
I live to let you shine  
I live to let you shine_

_But you can skyrocket away from me  
And never come back if you find another galaxy  
Far from here, with more room to fly  
Just leave me your stardust to remember you by_

Somewhere, between the rest of the verses, JJ laid down and closed his eyes. Ellie finished the song with a sigh. As she turned to shut the door, she saw Dina standing in the hallway.

“He’s out,” Ellie whispered.

“How do you do that?”

Ellie strode through the house and back to the couch in the two-bedroom house where she had been banished. “Do what?” she asked as she set the guitar down.

“I don’t know,” Dina muttered. “It’s just when you sing… it’s like time stops. And it feels like everything is going to be okay, even when it’s not.”

Ellie snorted a quiet a laugh. “It’s the guitar.”

“No, it’s not.” Dina moved Ellie’s blanket, pushing it into a pile by the armrest so she could sit next to Ellie. Without a word, she rested her head on Ellie’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Sing me something?”

Ellie swallowed, and her voice cracked a little. “Okay.” Trying not jostle Dina too much, she leaned across the couch to get the guitar again. Dina reached out, stopping her.

“No,” Dina whispered. “No guitar, just you.”

Ellie sat up again and smiled. She laid her arm over Dina’s shoulders and rubbed a calloused thumb across the woman’s shirt. As Dina nuzzled in, Ellie stared at the leather recliner in the corner of the room. It was empty… until it wasn’t.

Joel held his old guitar, looking like all kinds of the rustic man of the west that Ellie remembered him to be. Without a word, he set his hands and slowly began to play the music dancing in Ellie’s head. God, how she missed him.

Right on time, Ellie took a breath and began to sing.

_If I ever were to lose you…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, friends. Hope you liked it. Gonna causally drop my tumblr if you wanna follow. I don't reblog/post a lot, but I can always be found there. https://blueforthevirus.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'm considering a sequel, but don't get your hopes up. When I had the idea for this story, I thought there would be more Ellie/Dina content, but since there wasn't - I've started something else that focuses on them. And since I miss Joel, he's gonna be in it too. I'll start posting once it's done. It'll be a while (and I mean a while), as I'm at the mercy of life and work. 
> 
> In the meantime, endure and survive.


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